


Little Bit of Madness

by eternalsterek_broughttolife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Adoption, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Disabled Character, Down Syndrome, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Foster Care, Kid Fic, Little League Coach Derek, M/M, Masterbation, Multi, OC poc, Pregnancy, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Slow Build, Trans Character, dad!stiles, little league, mentions of child abuse, mentions of miscarriages, threesome - F/M/M (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7206449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsterek_broughttolife/pseuds/eternalsterek_broughttolife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an overworked foster parent who just added two new kids to his ragtag family and who is trying to balance work, family, and whatever else life throws at him. Derek is the hot little league coach, whose tight pants Stiles might be jealous of and maybe a little bit in love with. Watch as these two idiots bumble their way through a little thing I like to call...love.</p><p>Or...the long-assed kidfic no one asked for that I needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> While I tried very hard to edit, this fic is entirely unbetaed and is being written out SLOWLY on a phone. So any mistakes are my own, and as always feel free to point them out to me. 
> 
> This is my first at writing fanfic...enjoy!

You would think that after two weeks, this would be somewhat easier. That he would've figured out some sort of a system by now. Nope. Not even close. If anything, Stiles actually feels even more overwhelmed and completely out of his zone than when the kids had shown up at his door, two Fridays prior.

"Chase, please. Buddy. Pal. Comrade," he says to the terrified five-year-old in front of him, trying for casual and funny. It's his default state. It's worked for him pretty well up to this point, but apparently no amount of jokes was going to affect the kid. "You gotta let me go."

That earns him an even tighter squeeze from the five-year-old, who's currently holding him hostage with a death grip on his pant leg. Seriously, that kid has to have some sort of supernatural ability.

"Chase," he tries again, trying to gain the kid's attention. "It's okay. It's only for a few hours, then I'll be back here with Nella to pick you up."

It might be a cheap trick to use his sister and one attachment in this world, but Stiles is getting desperate. He needs to be at work...he glances at his watch...oh, god. Ten minutes ago. Lydia is definitely going to have his balls this time. Not that he hasn't been late before. There were so many times that he'd been late. Especially in that first year with Ty, trying to balance a new baby and a job and moving and...

"Pwomise?" Chase says it so quietly and with so much fear, Stiles' heart breaks for the tenth time that day.

"I promise," he says, giving Chase his most encouraging smile. "You're going to have so much fun, you won't even know I'm gone."

That earns him an eye-roll, which...he didn't even know five-year-olds could roll their eyes with such precision. He would be proud of he weren't terrified.

At this point, though, Chase is already staring at the kids on the other side of the door with something close to curiosity. 

"Why don't you go in with Miss Honeyton, here," he says, gesturing to one of the aids who's been hovering nearby without intervening, thankfully. She gives Chase a warm smile, but waits for his decision to enter or not. God bless understanding teachers. Chase gives her a weary look, but doesn't argue. He takes two small steps into the classroom, then takes Miss Honeyton's proffered hand.

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief, offering one more wave, before standing with a popping of joints. If he weren't so happy that Chase had finally agreed to a day without him, with a lot of convincing from Nella, he'd be exhausted. There were moments where he didn't know if he could do this, if any sane person could do this, but moments like these? They made it all worth it. Because Chase was sitting at a table with other kids and the girl next to him was handing him a crayon and he was smiling (or at least as much as Chase smiled. It was more of a shy, little grin but when it happened, it was beautiful). And Stiles...

Shit. Stiles was late. Again.

Sneaking into work, late, is kind of Stiles's specialty. He's pretty much a pro at talking his way out of any situation. And if that doesn't work, than his innate ability to annoy people with his constant flow of words typically has his bosses sighing and sending him away with a warning. Sneaking into work when his boss is Lydia Martin? Physically impossible.

That's why he shows up an extra ten minutes late, totaling it up to 25 minutes past when he was supposed to arrive, with a skinny, non-fat, sugar-free, no whip caramel macchiato and a cinnamon roll. When he sees she's already with a customer, he blatantly ignores her death glare as he sets up behind the counter and starts rifling through the online orders. A couple of minutes later she joins him, wordlessly sipping at her coffee and opening the bag that contains her cinnamon roll from their favorite bakery down the street. When she finally turns to face him, it's accompanied with a quirked brow and pursed lips.

"I love you?" Stiles offers.

She sighs. "How was he this morning?"

Stiles plops down on the stool behind him, all the energy suddenly leaving him, quickly replaced by utter exhaustion. The last two weeks finally catching up to him.

"I thought he was good once we were in the car, you know?" He sighs and runs his hand through his hair which is no doubt sticking up in a thousand different directions. He doesn't have the energy to care. "He was almost excited with the way Nella was rambling on about school, but once we dropped her off...nothing but silence. Took me twenty minutes just to get him to the door."

She gives him one of her calculating looks before handing him her coffee, which he takes with a grateful smile. 

"You're doing good with them, you know," she says as she organizes the orders of book they'd just got in. "Just give it time. And keep bringing me cinnamon rolls." 

He snorts. "How much time? It's been two weeks and I'm still walking on egg shells around them. Chase still freaks out whenever Nella isn't in sight; he barely speaks to me, only goes through Nella." He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, a massive headache in the brews. "What if they never warm up to me?"

"Stiles, be reasonable," Lydia says, grasping one of his hands between both of hers. "After what they've gone through...you have to expect a bit of time before they're ready to open up to you. They've had their defenses up for a long time; they've probably forgotten what it's like to trust someone. Just...give them time."

**

Lydia let's Stiles go just before the elementary school let's out, and he gets there and parks only seconds before the bell rings. Which of course sends Ty into another round of singing, entertaining himself by repeating "wing" over and over again at different volumes and tones. Which means Stiles ends up dragging a toddler through a school full of screeching children and gossiping parents while Ty tries to outdo the noise around him. This was his life now. Not that he minded, per say. He just wasn't entirely sure how he got here. 

None of this was planned. Who in their right mind plans to adopt a 7-month-old at age twenty-four? It just sort of...happened. One moment his only worry was not getting fired from his current job and to just make enough money to survive. The next moment, he was drowning in diapers and spit up and baby books, trying to not screw up this squishy, little human who suddenly depended on him. 

He wasn't gunna lie. Those first few months were a blur. He mostly only remembers the constant exhaustion and the feeling over being in over his head. He had the support of his dad and Scott and Melissa, thankfully. But they couldn't always be there for him, so he forced himself to try harder and research more and get them into a system, and eventually it had worked. Ty was sleeping through the nights and crying less and spitting up solid foods rather than the milky goop of his formula. Suddenly he could crawl then couple months later, he was taking his first shaky steps, and every decision in Stiles' life seemed to have led him to that moment. 

So, no, he may have not planned his life to go exactly the way it did, but he was pretty darn happy with it. Ty and him were a team, even if the toddler wasn't exactly speaking yet. They were getting there. 

Then two weeks ago, his life had flipped on its head once again. His dad had showed up at his door in the dead of night. Behind him, huddled together under a shock blanket, were two of the most terrified kids Stiles had ever seen. Nella, the older of the two, had stood there under the light of his porch light, staring at him with these giant eyes, hiding her fear behind a dare-to-mess-with-me glare. She had been her brother's caretaker for so long that she was prepared to do anything to keep him alive and well. 

And Chase. Chase, who was too young to remember their parents and had only known the life of bouncing between foster homes or hiding out in abandoned train cars after running from a house that Nella deemed unacceptable. Chase had stared at his twisting hands, keeping the tears back by mere force, his face bright red with exertion. 

Stiles had taken one look at the miserable pair and had fallen in love. It was a temporary situation, his father had said, only until they could find someone more prepared for permanent care. Stiles nodded along, knowing in his gut that he was already prepared to fight tooth and nail for these kids. 

When he finally spots Nella over the crowd of second graders and their parents, the feeling from that night surges forward. 

"La! La! La!" Ty starts chanting in his own version of Nella's name, squirming to be released to take off after her. 

Stiles holds on, if only just, and he can tell the moment Nella spots them because her entire face transforms. She seems to forget the conversation she was having with another little girl, and instead races over to Stiles' feet. 

"La!" Ty screeches, bending out of Stiles' arms to reach her. 

"Hey, Ty," she says gently, her smile soft wth fondness. She let's him latch around her neck for a moment before giggling and pulling away. "Lemme get my backpack, okay?" 

She returns a few moments later with her backpack, raincoat already on even though it had been clear the whole day. Stiles had tried to explain to her that she didn't need to wear it everyday, but he was 90% sure that she hadn't been given something so nice in a long time, if ever. He kept finding her staring at it with something close to awe, running her hands almost reverantly over the green and yellow polka dots that covered the slick jacket. It broke Stiles' heart, and he vowed to never make her feel like a $15 raincoat was the most extravagant gift she'd ever been given. 

As they make their way towards the other end of the school where the kindergarten classes are held, Nella peppers him with information about her day. Stiles is only half listening, focusing on navigating their way around the halls that are just beginning to clear out while also envisioning the inside of their fridge, trying to plan out dinner. 

They'd eaten the last of the pizza last night. Chase probably already ate his way through the box of corndogs since it seems to be the only thing the kid would eat. He's halfway through calculating the odds of making it though the grocery store with two kids and a tired toddler (yeah, it's not looking very good. Maybe he could ask Scott to do a small grocery run. Scott was his boy. And he probably owed Stiles anyways), when Nella suddenly takes off. He's seconds away from scolding her, because really it's pretty much their only rule, but he sees how desperately Chase is clinging to her like he can barely hold it together. 

Stiles just silently gathers Chase's things from his cubby and let's Nella lead them all out towards the parking lot. It takes him a good five minutes to get everyone settled in the car because Nella can't decide if she wants to keep her new favorite raincoat on or if she'll rinkle it on their ride home even though Stiles had told her multiple times that plastic couldn't rinkle and would she please sit down and buckle up because Ty is now squirming out of his carseat, trying to partake in whatever the older kids are doing behind him. By the time Stiles is finally able to slip behind the wheel, he can feels the makings of an epic headache forming behind his eyes. 

When they finally arrive home, Stiles settles the older two at the table with some apple slices to work on their homework. Nella leans over, occasionally, to help Chase understand where to color or to help him cut something. Stiles can't help smiling fondly at them. 

He places Ty in his playpen in front of the TV with his own afternoon snack, before heading to the kitchen to start dinner. It's peaceful all of five minutes before Chase let's out a piercing, "No!" 

"I'm just trying to help," Nella snaps, shoving Chase's work back to him with a little more force than necessary. 

"Nella, hey," Stiles calls from the kitchen. "Do I need to separate you two?" 

Apparently that was the worst thing Stiles could say at that moment, if Chase's reaction is anything to go by. 

"No! I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he repeats frantically. "I'll be good. I'm sorry." 

Stiles rounds the counter and kneels down beside Chase. "Buddy, hey. That's not what I meant. No one's going to take you away okay?" he quickly explains. Chase's breathing is nearing panicked, and Stiles can hear Ty starting his own cries in the living room, no doubt picking up on Chase's distress. 

"Buddy, you gotta breathe for me, okay. Big breaths. There you go." 

"I'm sorry, Chase," Nella says softly from Chase's other side. "I didn't mean to upset you." 

She pulls him into a hug, which he doesn't fight, his breath already evening out. When they finally pull apart, Nella places her hands on either side of Chase's head, leaning forward until their foreheads are pressed together. She whispers something that Stiles can't hear even from his place next to them. He stands, deciding it's a personal moment he doesn't need to interrupt, and goes to calm the whimpering Ty who was desperately trying to escape the playpen.

He wishes he could say this was the first time they'd had to deal with something like this, but he'd be lying. While they were pretty good at hiding it, the kids still dealt with a lot of residual issues from the shitty life they'd been forced to live. Chase had panic attacks daily, though they varied in intensity, this one being pretty mild, thankfully. Nella still acted with what their therapist called hyper-vigilance, always on high alert for anything that could put her or her brother in danger. They were working through it, slowly, with the help of an amazing therapist and lots of patience, but there was only so much one man could do in such little time. 

Stiles ends up abandoning homework for the night, and puts on one of the kids' favorite movies before calling his dad. It might be pathetic for a twenty-six year old to call his father, but Stiles doesn't care. He feels so lost and doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. Not that he ever does, but sometimes a boy just needs his father. And when the sheriff shows up halfway through the film with carryout from their favorite diner, Stiles just might let out a breath of relief. Don't judge. 

They set the kids up with their dinners on the coffee table which is usually a big no-no, which is something Nella seems to remember since she ends up giving him this wide-eyed look when he starts setting out the food, then he and his father each grab a beer before moving out to the back porch, keeping the sliding door cracked to keep an ear on the kids. They sit there in silence for a few minutes before Stiles finally breaks. 

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," he admits softly to the empty yard. 

"Hey, language." 

He gives his dad a dubious look, which earns him one of his father's signature looks that just begs Stiles to challenge him. 

Stiles sighs. "Sorry. I just...I don't know what the hel-heck I'm doing. It's like, no matter how hard I try, I can never get it right." 

"No parent ever gets everything right, Stiles," his dad says. "You just have to hope you aren't screwing them up entirely, and take it day by day." 

Stiles takes a long gulp from his beer. That was kind of the problem. Stiles didn't know if he was screwing them up or not. Maybe they would be better off without him. Not that he wanted them to go back to how they were living before because no kid, especially a seven-year-old, should have to worry about feeding herself and keeping her brother alive. Just...maybe another family. One that was more equipped to handle them. Stiles was pretty much a kid, himself. How was he expected to raise the kids on his own, especially when two of them still didn't trust him not to throw them out like the week's trash if they upset him in anyway? And- 

"Hey." He's jarred out of his thoughts by his father clapping him on his shoulder. "Stiles, any fool can see how much you love those kids. That's what they need most. You don't have to be perfect at everything, nobody is. You just have to love them with everything you got and try your damnedest to keep them alive long enough to annoy you in your old age." 

"Hey!" Stiles protests. "You love me and my annoying-ness." 

"Sure, kid, sure," the sheriff says, a smile playing at his lips. 

Stiles jabs his dad in his side, almost spilling his own beer in the process. His dad shoves him back playfully then gives Stiles a look that he'd come to interpret as 'how the hell did my son grow up so fast, yet really not at all'. Stiles flashes him a shit-eating grin. 

They settled into a comfortable silence, each nursing their own beer while staring off into the dark backyard, lost in their own thoughts. 

"She would be proud of you," his dad says eventually, breaking the spell. 

Stiles doesn't have to ask who 'she' is, the familiar clenching of his heart overwhelming him for a moment. It's not like he hasn't thought about it. He'd thought about her a lot over the years, wondering how beautiful she'd look as she aged, how proud she'd be of him for graduating college in only three years, how much she'd dote on his kids as if they were her own. She would claim that they were, no matter how short a period they actually spent under Stiles' protection; she would call them her grandbabbies and spoil them endlessly. 

Stiles quickly swipes under his eyes, not wanting to get caught up in that line of thinking. It was wishful thinking and it'd only leave him with more heartache, which was something he did not need at this moment. 

He glances over at his dad whose eyes are bit more wet than before and his gut seizes up. Nope. He most definitely does not need this right now. 

"I'm gunna go check on the rugrats," Stiles says. He stands up quickly, accidently knocking his chair over with a loud crash. He hastily rightens it, spilling the last of the beer he forgot he was holding. 

"Though, I honesty can't understand why she would be," the sheriff adds with a chuckle. 

"Shut up," Stiles says, bumping his dad's shoulder with his hip before sliding the door open further and going inside. 

The sheriff stays long enough to help put the kids to sleep, agreeing to Nella's insistence that they need to be read three books, one for each child. By the time Stiles finishes with the second book, both Ty and Chase are asleep, their breaths deep and even. Nella isn't far off, but she insists she's listening as Stiles cracks open her chosen book. 

He swallows back the emotions that are threatening to break loose as he details the adventures of a puppy who moves from household to household, trying to find a place to fit in, trying to find a family who sees him as a 'good luck dog', instead of the bad luck everyone thinks of him as. Stiles finishes with a soft "the end", quickly wiping away the moisture that had gathered at the corner of his eyes before tucking in an already-sleeping Nella, placing a kiss to her temple, and following his father out. He takes one more look around the room then shuts the door as softly as he can. 

His father is waiting for him at the front door, jacket already on and keys in hand. 

"Thanks," Stiles says, his voice a bit scratchy after reading for the last half hour. He waves his hands around, gesturing to encompass everything. "For, you know...everything." 

"You know how much I love those kids," the sheriff says simply. "I'm not saying to call me every night, but when you need me..." 

He leaves it open-ended, but Stiles nods along anyways. 

"Now get some sleep. You look like shit." 

Stiles gapes at him. "Hey! Language." 

His dad raises a brow, looking at him like he's an idiot, which, you know. Sometimes. 

They say their goodbyes and Stiles closes and locks the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment of quiet. 

He ends up crashing face first onto his bed, barely bothering with toeing off his shoes, after speed cleaning the mess from dinner, starting on the growing stack of dishes in the sink, and rifling though the kids' backpacks for any paperwork they forgot to give him. There's two piles of laundry to deal with and the fridge really needs a good cleaning if the smell is anything to go by and Stiles should really get started on those new research projects he just took on, but... 

But there's always tomorrow. He'll deal with it all in the morning, he lies to himself.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aw. Finally some Sterek. I always feel like I'm not portraying them as well as they deserve, but I have it a shot!

It's Tuesday afternoon and Stiles had managed to get the kids to school on time that morning (with only five minutes of debating outside Chase's class this time. Score!), had (mostly) caught up at work, and picked up the older kids with not so much as a leading question from anyone, let alone an argument.

It's Tuesday afternoon and Stiles is twisted backwards in his seat, staring down three sets of eyes.

"What's the rule?" he asks carefully.

The kids are absolutely vibrating with energy, but for now, all attention is on him. That should last for only twenty seconds or so. 

"No, no, no!" Ty chants happily, kicking the back of Stiles' chair with each word.

Stiles can't hold back his grin. "That's half right." 

Nella is raising her hand in that over-eager way only kids seem to accomplish, acting like she's going to be pulled out of her seat by the force of it.

"Yes, Nella."

"No running until we hit grass," she says, practically sighing in relief from being able to answer.

"Awesome," Stiles says.

"Mr. Stiles, can we play on the swings?" Nella asks, already helping Chase to unbuckle, her own seatbelt undone the moment Stiles pulled into the parking lot.

"It's just Stiles," he says. "And I actually have something else in mind."

Her eyebrows knit in confusion, but she doesn't say anything as they all unload from the car. Stiles isn't 100% sure that Ty's feet had touched ground before he's off at top speed, racing towards the playground. _Well_ someone _is ignoring the rule_ , he chuckles to himself.

He gives the totally-awesome-totally-NOT-a-soccer-mom-van a quick scan to make sure he's not forgetting anything before sliding the door shut and locking it. He follows after the kids who'd taken off towards the playground, trying to balance the diaper bag and his old sports bag from highschool while attempting to not lose his footing on the uneven ground.

"Come on Chase. Hurry _up_ , Mr. Stiles," Nella shouts over her shoulder as a laugh bubbles out of her.

Stiles answers her laugh with one of his own, enjoying the way she bosses him around and the small grin Chase is sporting. He hadn't planned on stopping off at the jungle gym, but there was no way in hell he was going to take this away from them. They'd just have to be a bit late. Easy enough since Stiles spent 90% of his life tardy to some degree. 

The kids spend the next fifteen minutes chasing each other around the playground and touching every possible surface they pass. Not much you could do there. At one point, Ty is running from Nella, his full attention on what's going on behind him that when he finally turns around, he smacks face-first onto a pole. Stiles is already standing, prepared for the full-blown waterworks. But Ty just shakes himself out of his daze, stands, and starts screaming and running at top speed like nothing had happened.

Yup. Definitely his kid.

Stiles gives them a three-minute warning, but they still drag their feet when he has to pull them away from the slides, only moving when he agrees to take them back to the park that weekend.

They climb the hill to where the various fields are held, and once the baseball diamond is in sight, Nella starts jabbering.

"Stiles! Stiles, look." In her hurry, she forgets her unneeded title for him, and Stiles grins at the slip up. "That's Michael's team. They're playing baseball! Can we go watch?"

"Well," he says, a little out of breath from the hike. "I was actually thinking you might want to play."

She rounds on him, her eyes comically wide.

"Would you like that?"

She let's out an ear-piercing screech, drawing attention from nearby pedestrians, but Stiles could care less because she's suddenly wrapped around his legs, showering him in thanks. And if Stiles blushes a bit at her attention, well no one has to know. 

She's practically jumping by the time they round on the field. As Stiles suspected, pretty much all the kids and their parents are already present, the kids gathered around two guys in baseball uniforms standing at home plate, the parents in small groupings along the fence and in the bleachers. They seem to be the only ones arriving late. Oh well, story of his life.

"Don't you wanna play baseball, Chase," Nella says, bending over with her hands on her knees to be eye-to-eye with her brother. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Judging by the tense way Chase is standing and the wringing of his hands, 'fun' seems to be last thing Chase thinks of baseball as. Stiles is about to mention that maybe Chase can sit this one out, when another voice joins the mix.

"Hi. Stiles, right?"

Stiles jumps, which really, what can you expect from a guy. Coming out of no where and scaring the bejesus out of him. People should come with warning bells, maybe then he wouldn't be jumping out of his skin everytime-

Holy shit. All three bullet points Stiles had formed as to why bells should be considered a necessity when it came to humans flies straight out of his head, leaving him with ' _fuck_ '. 

Because holy fuck balls, this guy is gorgeous. Stiles tries to ration that maybe it's heat stroke that's turning him to mush, instead of the tall, tan, muscled Greek sculpture standing in front of him. And the sweat, oh god. Stiles is going to faint. How do you know if you're going to faint? Because Stiles is pretty damn sure it's happening to him, and-

Sweaty muscles is looking at him with raised eyebrows (oh god, those eyebrows. Honestly! They should not be doing things to him especially when he has a child with him).

Stiles snaps out of whatever train of thought he was following when he realizes he does, in fact, have the kids with him, one that's hanging from Stiles' hold on his hand with his whole body. He could only hope he's been subtle about his appreciation of the specimen in front of him. Except...nope. Tall, dark, and mind-melting is smirking at him like he'd spilled all of his thoughts outloud, which...hadn't necessarily not happened before.

And his eyebrows are still doing that quirking thing like he's expecting Stiles to say or do something, but he doesn't know...Stiles suddenly realizes Mr. Muscles over here had said something. Shit.

"I...um...yes. Hello," he finally manages. Someone kill him now. "Stiles. Stilinski."

He moves to offer a hand only to remember they are both, in fact, occupied by the 30 pound toddler who's still pretending to be lifeless (thank you, kid. Big help) and supply bags. Mr. Handsome, who still hadn't offered his name gives a quirk of his lips, seeming to follow Stiles' train of thought.

"I'm Derek Hale. My sister said you might drop by?"

Stiles gives up his struggle with keeping Ty standing, and instead picks him up and settles him on his hip. Not that that stops Ty from continuing his dead-weight game. He just hangs from Stiles' side like someone had liquefied his bones. 

Stiles sighs, adjusting for the weight.

"And who's this little guy?" Derek asks with a chuckle.

"This," Stiles says, hiking Ty further up his side, "is Ty. He's going through a dead man phase. Apparently."

Ty giggles, breaking character long enough to spray Stiles with spittle. Stiles chuckles and attempts to wipe his face before he remembers he doesn't have a free hand. Oh well. He's had worse things on his face.

Derek is giving them both a wide grin. _Great_ , Stiles thinks, only mildly bitter. _At least_ someone _is getting a kick out of this._

Derek drops into a squat looking just past Stiles' legs, and it takes Stiles a moment to remember he has two other kids with him. Not that he ever really forgets them, he has this sort of subconscious level of awareness when it comes to his kids. Doesn't mean he doesn't occasionally lose track of one (or two) of them. Especially when faced with the most attractive man possibly in existence. Totally acceptable, right?

"And what's your name, sweetheart," Derek asks in a voice that totally does not do things to his heartstrings. No tugging here. Nope.

Stiles turns to find Nella practically hiding behind his legs, which, odd. In the two weeks Stiles had known her, he'd never seen her shy before. He frowns down at her. If she isn't comfortable with Derek in a casual settling, he wasn't going to force her to deal with him as a coach. Not that he ever thought this would be a problem, but Beacon Hills wasn't exactly the smallest town in the world. He could probably find another team sport if he needed, or maybe some other sort of group activity. He wasn't going to be one of those dads who forced their kids into sports just because they'd enjoyed them as kids, not that Stiles had even played t-ball or, really, enjoyed-

"I'm Nella," she finally says in something close to a whisper. "And this is my brother, Chase."

"It's nice to meet you two," Derek says. "Think you wanna try playing some t-ball today?"

Nella nods so quickly that Stiles half expects her head to fall off. Not that he's one to judge. He might be equally excited, just...for different reasons.

"Awesome." He flashed her another grin. "Do you want to join the others on the field? We're always excited for new players."

Stiles can see the eagerness in her eyes as she glances at the aforementioned field, but he can also see how tightly Chase is holding on to her hand. 

"Chase can sit this one out with me and Ty," Stiles offers. "We can be your cheerleaders. What'd'ya say?"

Chase grips her tighter, his body pretty much melding with Nella's.

"Come on, Chase. Why don't we go sit over on those bleachers," Stiles says, pointing them out. "We'll have the perfect view of Nella kicking butt on the field from there."

Nella giggles, already tugging on Chase's hand, even as he firmly stands his ground. "It's okay, Chase. I won't be too far and I'll be able to see you just like you can see me. Promise."

Chase puts as much doubt into his expression as the 5-year-old can manage, which, yeah, it's pretty convincing. That kid has expressions. 

"Come on. I'll show you."

She tugs on Chase's hand again, and this time Chase goes with her. With her other hand, she holds on to Ty who'd managed to squirm his way free of Stiles' grasp. He watches as she leads them over to the bleachers to pick out what Stiles had no doubt will be her version of the 'most perfectest spot ever'.

"I...sorry about that," Stiles says as he turns back to Derek. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what to say. This whole damn conversation has been one awkward moment after another. Story of his life.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Derek says, his eyebrows nearly connecting at the center of his forehead. "You're great with them."

A blush creeps across Stiles' face and he can only hope it somehow looks like a sunburn instead. _Because_ that's _better, Stiles._

"Ha. Yeah. I wish." He glances over to where the kids seem to be involved in some sort of game that involves running up and down the bleacher stairs. Yeah, that is not going to end up well. "I'm just bumbling along, trying to make it though the day to day."

Derek has this unreadable look on his face and Stiles blushes further. Why can't he ever just keep his mouth shut?

"Not that...sorry." He rubs the back of his warming neck. "Here I am, spilling my problems to the first attractive guy I see. Not that - I mean...oh my god. Please just ignore me."

Derek's eyebrows are practically up to his hair line, but he doesn't say anything.

"I'm just gonna..." Stiles gestures vaguely towards the kids. "Yeah."

If he puts a little extra speed into his getaway, well, he's not going to mention it. Ever.

***

Derek shouldn't be this effected by the cute, gangly dork who doesn't seem to be old enough to have kids, let alone three. He really shouldn't have any sort of feelings for the parents of his players. But here he is, awestruck the moment the guy spins around all wide-eyed and jumpy. He definitely shouldn't be thinking about his pale, mole-spattered face and how it looked all flushed and pink, while teaching his freaking daughter how to hit a ball off the t-stand. There's obviously something very wrong with him.

But when Nella finally manages to hit the ball, sending it off the stand a good foot or so, Stiles starts roaring and clapping and acting like it's the hit that won the game. And Nella blushes, hiding a pleased smile as she walks off the plate towards where the other kids are practicing with their gloves with Issac.

Yeah. Derek isn't having feelings at all. Sigh.

They wrap up the practice an hour later with a team huddle by first base, Derek and Isaac squatting to be eye to eye with the kids. Half of them have their hands around their mouth like they can barely contain their giggles. Yeah, Derek wasn't afraid to admit it was his favorite part of practice too.

"Alright," he says just loudly enough to be heard. He looks around the circle, trying extremely hard to keep his face straight. "What's the cheer going to be today?"

A few kids cry out their selections before Isaac and Derek shush them with their fingers to their lips, and a few kids join them. It is top secret, you know.

"Uncle Derek?" Michael says, raising his hand.

"Yes, Michael?"

"Shouldn't Nella choose since she's the newest one here?" He asks.

"That is a _great_ idea, Michael. Good job." He pivots a bit to give his full attention to Nella. "What do you say? Feel up to the job?"

Her eyes are cartoonishly wide and there's a blush quickly spreading across her checks, but she doesn't seem to be embarrassed. More overly excited, which is good. Derek doesn't want to overwhelm her on her first day and end up scaring her off. Especially if that meant he'd also be scaring of her ridiculously hot dad.

Focus, Derek.

"It can be anything you want," he tells her at her hesitation. "Doesn't have to be baseball-related."

She nods, her face scrunching up in concentration.

"Yeah!" Michael agrees, nodding along from his place beside her and giving her the most honest face that Derek has to stiffle a grin. "I made us cheer 'eat worms' last week, huh Uncle Derek?"

He chuckles. "You sure did."

Nella ponders this for another moment before quietly offering, "Can we say 'thank you, Mr. Stiles'?"

Derek's grin spreads across his face and he shares a glance with Isaac who's not doing much better than him.

"I think that'd be a _great_ cheer," he says. Nella beams.

They make sure all of the kids know the words before gathering them in closer, each with a hand in the middle, and then-

"Thank you, Mr. Stiles!" they all cry at the top of their lungs, throwing their hands into the air.

Derek can't see Stiles' face from here, but he sees the way he sits up straight, his head whipping towards the field. His kid, Ty, is vying for his attention, but he's frozen solid and Derek would bet good money that that cute, little blush is back.

The kids all take off towards their parents and Derek and Isaac gather up all the gloves and balls and cones into a large sack. When they make their way back towards the bleachers, Isaac claps him on his shoulder and tells him he's going to take off. Derek lifts his chin in farewell and calls after him that he'll see him Thursday.

Derek is organizing the day's supplies in the trunk off his car when someone comes up behind him, their flipflops smacking against the ground. He's seconds away from politely running away from whatever mom this week wants to "talk" to him, when-

"Hey."

Derek almost knocks his head against the trunk door as he practically jumps in surprise. Smooth, real smooth.

Stiles is grinning at him like he can hear Derek's thoughts loud. "You okay?"

Now it's _his_ turn to blush. "Yup. I'm fine." Stiles blurts out a laugh and Derek can't help but smile at that. "What can I help you with?"

"I just..." He starts worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and Derek follows the motion, flushing for an entirely different reason. "I wanted to thank you. For the, you know..." He pumps his fist into the air in an awkward imitation of a cheer. "I...thanks. it was pretty awesome."

He chuckles nervously and Derek has a strange urge to make him do it again, as many times as he can.

"Oh," he says stupidly. "It was Nella's idea, really."

"Oh, I know." He laughs again and he makes it feel like they're sharing in on a joke. "Nella hasn't stopped talking about it. She also says you were the one who chose her to lead the cheer. Actually, she has _lots_ to say about you. I think you're her new hero."

He chuckles softly and Derek tries to find something to say. What does someone say to that?

He doesn't get the chance to answer, though, as a loud "Hey!" pierces the air. Derek turns to see Stiles' kids sitting on the edge of his minivan, the toddler already buckled in and swinging his legs happily.

"Hey!" Ty cries again at the same deafening volume, the smile never leaving his face.

"Heh. Guess that's my cue," Stiles says with a jerk of his thumb, already moving backwards towards the van. "Seriously, though..." 'Thank you', he mouths before spinning on his heel.

Derek watches him as he gets the older kids settled in their seats, nodding along to whatever Nella says before quickly tickling Ty on his stomach and sliding the door closed. He gets in behind the wheel and starts the car, glancing back at Derek only once to give a quick wave, then he's pulling out of the parking lot.

When Derek finally gets everything packed into the trunk and the car on the road, he realizes he hasn't stopped grinning like an idiot the entire time. The thought only makes him smile harder.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This was a bit longer than what I first planned. I tried breaking it in half but it just wasn't working so, REALLY long chapter here. Bear with me y'all. But hey! An ACTUAL Sterek moment.

T-ball is definitely a hit. Nella barely takes a breath as she reiterates the two days she spent on the field. Over and  over again. Stiles is happy that she finally has something to get this worked up over, but he also let's out a sigh of relief when Friday finally rolls around.

Scott is holding a BBQ at his place and the whole gang is coming, even Erica and Boyd are driving up from LA where they now lived, running their own art studio. Which means Nella has a whole new audience to recount her love of t-ball to. An audience who hasn't had to hear how fantastically awesome her new coach is and how he thinks she's a real "pro" and how he let her choose the cheer at the end of the first practice. Not that Stiles is paying particular attention to how many times she mentions Derek. That would be weird.

23 times.

Anyway. When they pull into Scott's driveway that Friday after school, Stiles is glad to have a little break from the kids. Not that he doesn't love them because he totally does, with all that he has. He's just a single parent of a household that quickly jumped from one to three. He barely gets any time to himself to breath, let alone anything else a single man would enjoy. Seriously, the one time he'd tried jerking off in the last three weeks, Nella had walked into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes and complaining about some noise or another and could he _please_ check under their beds one more time?

It's not even only that. Lately Stiles has just felt....well frankly, like he was drowning. Drowning in tears and fits and exhaustion and sleep deprivation. When he'd told Derek he was just trying to survive the day to day, while totally inappropriate to admit to a man he'd just met, let alone one that was going to be apart of his life to some degree for the foreseeable future...well he still meant it. He felt so goddamn out of his league when it came to these kids. They deserved so much more than Stiles felt prepared to give them.

Call him selfish, though, because even the _idea_ of giving these kids up tore at his heart in ways he hadn't felt in years. He couldn't just let them go without a fight. And If he'd had any doubts to his love for them, last night would've destroyed them forever.

It was a pretty quiet evening after Nella's second t-ball practice. Actually, if Stiles thought about it, it was an unusually quiet evening, no arguments, no fighting bedtime, only one nighttime story.

Either way, Stiles was feeling pretty good when he was able to put the kiddos down with enough time to get some work done in his office, which was really a gratuitous description of the corner of his room where his desk resided. He was just wrapping up a research project for a regular client, a sci-fi novelist who often needed his help in figuring out if something was humanly possible or not (or rather if it was plausible in whatever setting he'd created for his current book), when he heard a soft cry through the baby monitor on his bedside table. He paused briefly to see if it'd grow into something more, but there was just silence.

Until there wasn't.

"I sowwy," he could hear Chase say over the static-filled line. 

"It's okay, Chase," Nella answered. She sounded wide-awake. "You stand over there while I clean it up."

"I sowwy," Chase said again, his voice mumbled this time. Stiles could clearly picture him with his fingers in his mouth, which he tended to do when he felt guilty and thought a punishment was coming.

"It's okay, Chasey. I don't mind. We just don't tell, right?"

That got Stiles standing and quietly creeping out of his room to the kids' room just across the hall. The door was slightly ajar and Stiles peaked his head inside. Both Nella and Chase stood beside the bunk bed, Nella stripping the sheets and Chase as he'd expected, with nearly his whole fist in his mouth, standing in the corner of the room.

Stiles stepped inside. "What's going on?" he asked, trying for casual but also attempting to not wake Ty. He was damn near impossible to coax back asleep once he was up. Stiles did not need that tonight.

Stiles knew better than to ever try to sound stern in these situations. This first week Nella and Chase had moved in, Stiles had been pretty much on egg shells. Chase flinched from every movement anyone but Nella made towards him, his face going ruby red and his eyes tearing up if anyone spoke a decibel over what he deemed to be acceptable, which was pretty much only a whisper. And Nella would go to his defense every time. Stiles felt completely clueless as to how he could help, but over the last few weeks, he thought he'd made good progress. Apparently not.

The moment he opened his mouth, both of the kids reverted back to those early days. Chase practically melted into the corner and Nella took a protective step in front of him, her eyes wide with fear.

"It-wasn't-his-fault," she said quickly, making it all sounds like one word. "It was me. I...I had an accident. I'm sorry. It was me."

Stiles blinked. What?

"Woah. Hey. It's nobody's fault. It was an accident. No one is in trouble."

"Please don't kick us out," Nella said as if she hadn't heard a single word he said. "I can fix it."

"I-what?" He swallowed. His was so confused. He wasn't good at handling these types of situations. "No. No one is getting kicked out. That's...I'm not going to kick you out for this."

Nella was still in her defensive stance, so he tried a different tactic, squatting down to be at her level. He put as much sincerity into his words as he could, needing her to believe this. "Nella, believe me, I will never kick you out. You and Chase are welcome to stay here for as long as you'd like. Do you understand?"

That seemed to get to her, coupled with the fact that Chase's quiet sobs were now dimming to hiccups, since she was already relaxing and looking less fearful.

Stiles stood. "Why don't you and Chase go wash up in the bathroom? I'll take care of this, okay?" he said, gesturing to the bed.

"Okay..." she answered in a quite voice, all of the fight seeming to leave her at once. She took Chase's hand and led him out of the room.

Stiles waited until he could hear the sound of water running before letting out a breath. How could he have fucked up this badly? He thought he was doing so good with them, but it always felt like one step forward, two steps back.

Later, after the kids had scrubbed themselves down and Chase was dressed in clean jammies, Stiles tucked them both into Nella's top bunk. Chase was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and Stiles could definitely sympathize with that since he was feeling absolutely drained, himself.

"Good night, Nella," he said softly, backing up towards the door.

"Thank you, Mister....thank you Stiles."

He paused at the door, the only light coming from the hallway. "You're welcome, Nella. But next time? Come get me, okay? I'll clean it up. You don't have to worry about it."

"Okay," she mumbled, sleepily.

"G'night, Mr. Stiles."

Stiles smiled fondly. "Goodnight, Chase. Goodnight, Nella. Sleep tight."

They'd been fine that morning and when Stiles picked them up from school, it was almost like Stiles had dreamt the whole thing. Maybe they could easily move past it, but he couldn't. He kept replaying Nella's words in his head, seeing how absolutely petrified both she and Chase had been, looking at him like he would...god, he didn't even know. Didn't want to know what they thought he was going to do. All he wants is to make sure they never looked at him that way ever again.

**

Stiles is in Scott's driveway, the older two kids already inside, as he de-strawberry's Ty and his car seat from the mess Ty'd made that afternoon when Stiles hears the front door fly open and a cheerful "Stilinski" being called out.

He hits his head against the roof of the car as he leans out to see who's calling him, making Ty break into giggles. Slap-stick comedy. The one thing he's good for.

He beams as Erica rounds the car, looking as beautiful as ever with her bouncy, blonde curls, tight and mildly revealing clothing, and wolfish smile. She wraps him in a tight hug before holding him an arm's length away, her hands on his shoulder and she takes a good look at him.

"Dorky as ever, I see," she says finally, one eyebrow perfectly quirked. "How did I ever have a crush on you in high school?"

"Hey!" Stiles protests. He glances down at his purple button up and grey jeans. These were his good party clothes, though, now that he's looking, he can see some sort of a stain on one thigh of his pants and his shirt is a little wrinkled. So, sue him. 

"And look at my favorite nephew." She leans into the van to pluck Ty from his carseat that's only half clean. "You look just like your daddy, don't you?"

She winks at him. God, he missed her, the jerk.

"Come on, Stilinski. The party is inside, stop avoiding us all." She carries Ty off towards the house, leaving him to balk at her.

He hadn't....he wasn't...how does she do that?

He follows her lead and enters the house through the open front door, following the scent of smoke from the barbeque out to the back deck. Scott is pretending to man the grill when really, he's squatting down to Nella's level as she's probably already halfway through her t-ball story, eyes wide with rapt attention. Allison is in the porch swing, her feet propped on a chair in front of her, with a bowl of diced watermelon balancing on her round stomach. Erica is already perched on her husband's lap, bouncing Ty on her knees. 

"Stiles!" Allison calls cheerfully. She smiles widely but doesn't make a move to get up. Good. She's about to pop. He doesn't want to be the one to cause it. "There you are."

"Stiles, buddy!" Scott shouts in equal excitement. "Oh my god. Why didn't you tell us about t-ball? We so would've gone to help cheer, dude."

Nella blushes from her place beside Scott, obviously pleased with the idea. He was going to invite them to her first game next weekend if she'd decided to stick with the sport, which, obviously she had.

"Hey, where's Chase?" He asks, suddenly noticing his absence.

"Watching TV in our room," Allison says. She flashed him the quickest look of pity and it gets Stiles' stomach churning.

Yeah, he knows. He knows that Chase still isn't comfortable around groups of people, unlike his sister who seems to thrive on it. Stiles would totally be okay if it were just typical shyness, but he wasn't comfortable around Stiles, either. One of his biggest failures. He seems to have drawn Nella out of her hyper-vigilance nature, but he can't even make Chase feel comfortable enough to wake Stiles up after one of his nightmares or accidents, rather than waking his sister.

Stiles finds Chase in Scott and Allison's room where they said he'd be. But instead of watching TV, he was in their adjoined bathroom, kneeling on the counter and riffling through one of their drawers. Stiles freezes in confusion. He isn't trying to steal something, is he? But as Chase turns, Stiles gets a clear answer.

He has lipstick sloppily coating the surrounding area more than his lips themselves, and there are some circles high on his cheeks like he was attempting to use the blush. But more than that, there are tear tracks running down his cheeks, his breath coming in gasps, and he's looking at Stiles in the most desperate panic. Stiles crosses the room before he even realizes he's moving.

"Buddy, hey, what's wrong?" He wants to wrap him up in the biggest hug, but Chase isn't a fan of physical contact on a good day.

Chase starts hyperventilating then, and Stiles throws the no-touch rule out the window. He gathers Chase up in his arms, sitting them both on the closed toilet lid and starts rubbing his hand firmly over Chase's back while murmuring "it's okay, honey, it's okay" over and over again until he loses track of what he's saying. 

It takes some time, but Chase eventually calms to hiccups. Stiles fills a mouthwash cap full of water and forces Chase to drink a few cap-fulls. When he's done, the hands go straight into his mouth, his little body so damn tense in Stiles arms.

"Hey, can you tell me what's wrong?" Stiles gently prods, fearing he already knew the answer.

Chase surprises him by actually sharing. "Won't come off," he mumbles into his fingers.

"You want this off?" Stiles says, lifting Chase's chin to see his eyes. Chase's nod is almost indiscernible. "Okay. It doesn't have to come off, but I can wash it off, if you'd like."

Chase gives him the widest eyes that would make Stiles laugh any situation other than this.

"I'm not in trouble?" he asks in a whisper like he's afraid that Stiles will suddenly remember to punish him if he brings it up.

Stiles sighs. God. He is so not good at this shit. If his mother were here...no. He can't think like that. Not right now.

"No buddy," he says, making sure Chase can see the honesty in his face. "You're not in trouble. It's okay to like make up. I used to. I just...next time maybe ask before using it, okay? Me or Allison would love to help you with it, if you'd like. Or maybe even Nella?"

He continues to stare at him for a moment before nodding his head.

"Now, let me show you the magic that is makeup remover."

**

After a bit of scrubbing and some more promises of how it's absolutely okay to like make up or playing dress up, they join the others in the backyard. Stiles is alternating between pushing Nella, who has Ty in her lap, and Chase on the swings when the last of the party arrives.

"Lydia, my love!" Stiles shouts from the other side of the yard. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

She rolls her eyes and Cora, who comes out behind her calls out playfully, "Back off, Stilinski. She's mine."

Stiles chuckles to himself, nearly choking on his laughter when someone follows her out the back door.

"Derek!" Nella screams, quickly sliding Ty off her lap before taking off across the yard.

Stiles swoops Ty onto his hip and follows her, still entirely confused, but he might be experiencing the same degree of excitement Nella is showing, albeit a bit more subtly. Or at least he hopes he's being subtle as he greets their newest party guest.

"Hello," Derek says in return. He's dressed casually in a thin, white t-shirt and dark-wash jeans, presumably to enjoy the last bit of the summer heat.

When he glances down, he finds Nella practically smushing her face against Derek's legs in the most eager hug he's ever seen her give.

"Nella, buddy, let's not hang off our guests, okay?"

She giggles but let's go, flashing Derek a giant smile.

"I don't mind," Derek mumbles, the tips of his ears turning pink. Stiles has the strangest urge to feel their warmth against his tongue.

He swallows.

He's thankfully saved by Isaac who exits the house and claps Derek's shoulder in a very friendly manner. Just his luck. The first guy in a  _long_  time that he's been interested in and he's already taken. Oh well. Probably for the best. While it isn't an official rule in Stiles' book, dating your foster daughter's t-ball coach is a pretty big no-no. Maybe it should be a rule.

"Hey, Stiles," Isaac says, good-naturely, his hand still on Derek's shoulder. Not that Stiles notices or anything. Nope.

"Isaac," he replies a bit colder than he intended.

Isaac, though, doesn't seem to notice, already moving his attention on. He leans forward, grinning down at Ty.

"Hey, bud." 

Stiles may or may not cheer internally when Ty shrinks away from Isaac's touch, curling up against Stiles' neck. He doesn't hate the guy or anything. It's just...it's nice to know Isaac can't have everything. Whatever. He's not going to over-analyze it.

"Oh my god. I totally forgot you three knew each other," Cora says from her spot on the porch swing next to Allison. She steals a piece of watermelon Stiles is pretty sure was intended for the party but Allison is guarding with her life. "Nella is on Der's team, right?"

Stiles whips his head back around, eyebrows all the way up his forehead. "Der?" he asks, barely containing his mirth.

Derek shoots him an unamused glare that makes Stiles very unattractively snort out a laugh. Derek's face seems to do this very subtle dance, like he's trying to decide on an emotion, but again, Stiles isn't about to over-analyze it.

"Cora," Derek pretty much growls in warning. There's no heat behind it, though, as he playfully snatches the watermelon from her hand.

Cora glares as her watermelon disappears into his mouth. "Oh, poor Derek. Can't handle his little sister's teasing. Boo hoo." She sticks out her tongue before stealing another piece from Allison who is looking at them both fondly.

"Wait..." Stiles says, scratching his chin. "You two...you two are siblings?"

"Duh," Cora offers with a shrug.

Scott announces dinner to be ready just then, saving Stiles from having to find a reply. He knew Cora had siblings, not that she really brought them up without being prompted. He just never figured it would be the Hale siblings, the ones who just decided to tilt his world on edge in one short week.

Laura had stopped him pretty much every day this week as he rushed out the school to attempt to make it to work on time just once, or after school as he was trying to juggle three kids in their various stages of hungry, tired, excited, and overwhelmed. Each time, she offered a new club or meeting or support group (all that she was involved with to some degree), which Stiles appreciated, really he did, he just...there wasn't enough time in the day as is. He _was_ starting to think of her as a sort of strange friend he barely had time to talk to and who still kind of frightened him with the power she gave off. But friends, none the less. He even had her number now.

And Derek, well, he really didn't have to go into how Derek turned his world on its head.

Like right now, for example. Ty had somehow wiggled into Derek's lap and was now forcing him to feed bits and pieces of his meal to him. Derek doesn't even pause, continuing his conversation with Scott while breaking off pieces of hamburger and vegetable to feed the two-year-old with. The image just might be doing something to Stiles. 

It isn't even just the fact that Derek seems to be very good with kids, like, Stiles can't imagine being that flawlessly easy with dealing with the adorable fuckers, but they are his kids. Ty, while the happiest little dude Stiles has ever know, has trouble connecting with other people, especially since he hasn't quite figured out the talking thing yet. They're working on it, the kid is actually pretty darn quick at learning sign language, but with three kids suddenly vying for Stiles' attention, they didn't have much time to sit down and actually practice. Not that Stiles really needed it, since he was fluent in Ty's particular brand of language, but if he was ever going to get into preschool or kindergarten, it would be best for Ty to be able to communicate with his peers in some way. And-

Ty's just so happy right now. Stiles takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him. This...this is the shit that mattered. Not whether or not Ty would learn to speak or be Mr. Popular in his future class. Not if Stiles would ever make more than ends meat. Not if Nella would become some baseball star. This. Family. Friends. The unconditional love that surrounded him and his kids. 

Stiles is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Allison approaching until she's awkwardly lowering herself into the seat beside him.

"You're oddly quiet," she says, unconsciously rubbing her belly. Honestly, Stiles is surprised she hasn't popped yet, even if her due date is over four months away. He can't imagine her getting any bigger. Human life is crazy.

"You okay?" she asks, bumping her shoulder against his when he doesn't offer anything more than a hum in reply. "Talk to me, Stiles."

"I found Chase playing in your make up," he blurts out unexpectedly.

"Oh." She blinks at him. "I don't..."

"Sorry. I should've said something earlier but I didn't think he'd want me telling anyone, but it was _your_ makeup so I figured if anyone should know, it's you."

"No. It's..." She looks at him curiously. "It's fine. Are _you_ okay?"

"With him playing with makeup?" He shrugs and glances over at the kid in question. He's picking at his food like he normally does but he's listening with apt attention as Derek tells him and Nella something, a shy smile on his face. "Yeah. I don't care. I mean...it doesn't have to mean anything. I use to do shit like that when I was his age. But if it does, you know, become _something_ , yeah. It's not....it doesn't change how I feel about him."

He can feel Allison's gaze burning holes into the side of his face, but he doesn't look up from where he's picking at his fingernails.

"You're amazing with them," she says suddenly. "I know you can't see it, but we can. _They_ can. You have to stop thinking that you can control everything. Just let it _be_."

He stares at her then. Was he that obvious or did she have some sort of mind-reading powers?

"You're going to be such an awesome mom," Stiles says in all earnesty. "Terrifying but awesome."

She laughs and swats at his shoulder, but Stiles can see the pleased look on her face as she rubs at her belly.

"I hope so," she says quietly.

He squeezes her hand affectionately, knowing exactly where those doubts are coming from. He still feels like a shitty dad, isn't even capable of calling himself that out loud. While he knows he isn't necessarily completely fucking these kids up for life, he still has those doubts as to whether or not he's cut out for this all.

When everyone begins wrapping up dinner and meandering out further into the yard, Stiles stays behind to help clean up and get dessert ready. He can see the kids from his place at the sink and he can't hold back his smile as Derek and Scott start up a game of football, using the kids as the ball. They're tossing Ty back and forth between each other and dodging Nella as she tries to tap them out.

Stiles' mouth nearly drops to his feet when he sees Chase walk up to Derek and tap him on his leg. Derek bends down, Ty still giggling maniacally in his arms, and when Chase whispers something in Derek's ear, Derek tosses Ty to Boyd who'd joined in the shenanigans at Nella's insistence, probably. The others continue to play kid-football while Derek and Chase move towards the swings and Derek begins to push Chase softly, Chase kicking his legs in excitement, a soft smile on his face.

"Good view?" Erica asks from right behind him, scaring Stiles enough to send the pot in his hands crashing into the soapy sink water, spraying him and the floor.

"Jesus, Erica," he says trying to play it off as his normal clumsiness, even though he can tell with one glance at her that she doesn't believe it for a second. "Scare a guy, much."

"Mmhm." She wiggles her eyebrows at him, grinning wolfishly. "Something distracting you? Maybe some _one_?"

He blushes furiously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh my god. You're adorable."

"Why is he adorable," Lydia asks, joining them in the kitchen.

Stiles tries to warn Erica with his eyes, half trying to silently threaten her, half begging her to have mercy on him. Apparently it doesn't work.

"Stiles and his crush over the baseball coach," she says with an evil little glint in her eyes.

Lydia raises a brow at him. He can't tell if she's surprised or...something else.

He blushes even harder. "It's not...that isn't...I do not have a crush on him."

"See? Adorable." She laughs at Stiles' glare, closing the fridge door with her hip and carrying her cake out to the desert table.

"You could do worse," Lydia says simply as she follows Erica out with a tray of cookies.

Women. Absolutely terrifying.

Stiles is just about done with putting the dishes into the wash, when he hears a loud, "No!"

He glances out the window to see Scott struggling to hold onto a squirming Ty who's looking more and more desperate to escape his grasp.

"No, no, no, NOOOOO!!"

Stiles is out the door without a second thought, only slowing down when he gets to Ty's side. Scott guiltily hands him over and Ty fights him initially, not noticing who's holding him.

"Sorry," Scott says even though Stiles' full attention is on the struggling two-year-old in his arms. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the cries of 'no'. "We were just playing. He was fine one second, then...this..."

Stiles nods on autopilot, already removing Ty from the situation. He only ever seems to get worse when surrounded by people, and Stiles can feel everyone's eyes on them, which isn't helping.

"I'm just going to..." He doesn't finish the thought, but Scott seems to understand because he's nodding, then gathering everyone towards the desert table.

Stiles rounds the house and sits them both on the curb out front, letting Ty choose whether or not he wants to be held this time. He sets him down next to him when Ty begins his dead-man routine. Sometimes talking only makes it worse, so they sit in silence, the lack of excessive noise probably helping Ty but leaving Stiles to drown in his thoughts.

He had been so tunnel-visioned in the moment, that it's only now that he remembers the looks everyone was giving them. Fear, uncertainty, curiosity. These were his friends, he knew that, but he'd never let them into this part of his life. The negative, less enjoyable side of raising a kid with down syndrome.

He loved Ty, god did he love him, but sometimes it wasn't all goofy smiles and squeals of laughter and embracing everything with every ounce of energy he had. Sometimes Stiles had to struggle with a twenty pound sack of dead weight while maneuvering through the grocery store. Sometimes Ty's lack of communication skills concerned people, and Stiles would have to sit through comparisons and suggestions, and while he knew people were just trying to be helpful, frankly, he found it none of their damn business. And the looks. God, the looks. Pity and concern and something close to fear, like people were imagining what their lives would be like with a kid with down syndrome and were so damn grateful they didn't have to deal with it all. Not that Stiles felt like he was "dealing" with something. Except days like these. Yeah. He dealt with them. But more often, his biggest problems to "deal" with were other people who just couldn't understand.

Stiles doesn't know how long they've been sitting out there before Ty climbs into his lap and snuggles into his chest. Stiles sighs.

"You feeling better, buddy?" he asks against Ty's wild curls. He rubs his nose against Stiles' neck in a nod. "We talked about this, bud. Remember? I want you to tell me when you aren't feeling good."

"Is he okay?" a shy voice asks from behind, and Stiles turns his head to see Nella standing there, wringing her hands. Just behind her, giving them all space, is Derek.

"She wanted to make sure Ty was doing alright," Derek offers when Stiles' eyes land on him. He nods his thanks before turning back to Nella.

"Yeah, hon, he's okay."

She visibly relaxes and hesitantly comes closer before sitting next to Stiles on the curb.

"What's wrong with him?"

Stiles tenses at that. He'd heard that question in one form or the other so many times over the years. He knows Nella doesn't mean anything by it, but his instinct is to protect his son from ever being asked that, himself.

"Nothing's wrong with him, Nella," he says gently as he tries to find the right words. "Sometimes....sometimes he gets overwhelmed and he doesn't know how to process everything."

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"You know how you feel when in a new place?" Stiles tries again. Nella nods after a moment of consideration. "Well that's how Ty feels sometimes. Like there's too much _new_ happening around him. He doesn't know how to say when something is bothering him like you and me can, so sometimes he does what he did today. It isn't _wrong_ , it's just different. His own way of letting us know something is wrong."

Nella stares at Ty with a frown for a moment before saying, "Can I help?"

Stiles runs his hand over her wild hair and pulls her in to plant a kiss on her forehead, which she doesn't fight.

"I think he's okay now, but thank you." Stiles glances behind them to find Derek still standing there. "Why don't you go get some cake with Derek. We'll be in in a minute, okay?"

She lightly runs her hand up in down Ty's arm, telling him to feel better and that she'll save him a cookie, before joining Derek. Her little hand easily slips into Derek's and he looks down at her in surprise before letting a wide smile cover his face.

**

Less than an hour later, Ty is asleep on Stiles' shoulder, drool seeping through his shirt, and both Nella and Chase have come down from their sugar high and are currently fighting sleep as they lean against one another on the couch. Lydia and Cora had ducked out right after Stiles came back in, and Erica was out on the porch playing poker with Boyd and Scott, or more accurately stealing their well earned money.

"I think we're going to take off," Stiles tells Allison quietly as to not wake Ty. He snuggles tighter against his neck.

She glanced at him from her spot on the loveseat, her feet propped on Derek's legs, ice cream bowl balanced on her belly. "I'll see you Tuesday, right?"

"Right," he says, trying to remember what Tuesday was. "Oh, right, yes. Tuesday."

She gives him small, fond small. "And you haven't forgotten about Friday, have you?"

Friday? God, Stiles could barely remember what today was, how was he supposed to remember something a week from now. Not that he ever tried to just go plan-less. No. He had a whiteboard in his kitchen to keep track of his, the kids', his dad's, and his friends' schedules. You couldn't just get a pocket-sized version of that shit. He'd tried, once, on his phone but it became too difficult for even him to understand. There was only so much color coding could do.

"Stiles?"

"Umm..."

She gives him this almost pained look. "Halloween." Shit. "You have gotten them costumes, right?"

Even Derek raises his eyebrows at that. How could he have forgotten Halloween?

"I still have time," he says as he mentally tries to rearrange his schedule to work in costume shopping. Wednesday might work. "I'll figure it out."

"Well, you better. Because I want to see those cuties in their costumes on your holiday card," she teases.

Right. He'd have to add that to the list, too. Christmas might be a long ways off, but things like that had a way of sneaking up on him.

When she tries to get up to hug him goodbye, he holds her down by her shoulder, ignoring the glare she gives him, and bends down to place a kiss on her cheek. 

He glances at the two sleeping forms on the couch, trying to formulate a plan on how to get them all into the car without waking them, when-

"I'll carry them out," Derek says, reading his mind. He extracts himself from Allison's legs and picks up both the kids at once, one in each arm, before Stiles can say anything. With one more goodbye and a promise to call, he leads Derek out to the van.

Ty thankfully doesn't wake up as he places him in his carseat and starts untangling the mass of buckles. Derek easily gets Chase into his booster seat, but Nella wakes up halfway through, reaching up sleepily to pat Derek's face with both of her hands, muttering, "'Night, Derek," before falling back to sleep.

They both climb out of the car and slide the doors shut as quietly as possible, then stand awkwardly near the van. Stiles never knows what to say in these situations. Not that it's a situation, really, just...two dudes saying goodbye. Even though Isaac had left for work just after dinner, it didn't mean that Derek was suddenly _free_ or anything. Not that Stiles was trying to  do anything, he just-

"I had fun tonight," Derek says, effectively breaking him out of his mind-rant. "Your kids are...incredible."

Stiles blushes. How is he supposed reply to that? "I...um...thank you. I guess. I mean, I didn't really make them, obviously, not just because I'm a single dude or anything, but...white, here, and they obviously are not. Not that...I mean, I'm sure that's not what you meant."

Derek is grinning at him where as most people would be rolling their eyes or telling him to shut up, which someone should really do right about now.

"They like you too," Stiles says dumbly, but he doesn't miss the way Derek's face goes flush. "Nella hasn't stopped talking about you since Tuesday, as you probably know. And Chase...I've never seen him like that."

Is it his imagination, or is Derek moving closer? He's got this...shy, yearning look on his face and Stiles-. Oh god. He's going to kiss him.

Stiles heart starts hammering in his chest and he might be leaning forward some, too. And he wants this, god does he want this...but...

"I'm sorry," Stiles says hoarsely as he pulls away at the last second. His face is red and all he wants to do is climb in his stupid minivan and run away from the world.

"No. I-I am sorry. I shouldn't...oh god." Derek roughly runs a hand over his face. "I am so sorry."

Stiles laughs awkwardly. "What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who wasn't thinking. I just...you...you're Nella's hero."

Derek is starting at him like he'd just grown another head, which...yeah. He wasn't exactly explaining this well.

"I can't ruin that for her, you know? I can't let anything that comes between us to ruin that for her. Not that...I mean...you shouldn't even be kissing me."

Derek's eyebrows are pretty much melded together.

Stiles sighs. He doesn't have time for this tonight. He just needs to get home, put the kids to bed and promptly fall asleep, himself.

"Goodnight, Derek," he says on a sigh, climbing into his car. "I'll see you around."

Then he's backing out the driveway and leaving his first chance at a kiss, a _real_ kiss, in over a year, behind.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little big of pining. Little bit of sibling time. Little bit absolute adorableness that is this ship. Enjoy, lovelies.

This is quite possibly the stupidest thing Stiles has done in his entire life. And that includes the time he'd dragged Scott out to the middle of the preserve at the dead of night to find a dead body. Plus all the shit they'd pulled during their college years (they even have a rule to never mention drunk, freshman skinny dipping and the naked cuddling that had occurred afterwards because hypothermia is a thing, people). So maybe this moment doesn't exactly exceed a few of their "adventures", but it was definitely up there. Top ten, possibly top five on the stupid list.

 

So Stiles might be exaggerating a little bit, but you try grocery shopping at eight am on a Saturday with three grouchy, hungry children.

Yeah, that's what he thought. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.

Thing was, they didn't have any food in their house. His first stupid decision, that was actually less of a decision and more of a byproduct. He'd just been putting grocery shopping off for days, which was something he'd promised himself he would never do again after the last time he'd been in a similar situation, but here he was. He should really look into online grocery shopping. Yet another thing to add to his ever-growing list.

"I want cereal," Nella whines for the third time in the last five minutes.

"I told you, we already have cereal," Stiles says calmly as he scans the isle for the kind of crackers Ty _will_ eat.

"But it's not the _good_ cereal." She's practically hanging from the cart that she's supposed to keep a hand on at all times.

Stiles sighs. "Nella, _you_ chose the cereal. If you don't like it, then don't choose it next time."

She harrumphs, but doesn't say anything else. For all of ten seconds.

"Well Chase should choose his now. It's his turn."

Ugh. He hates when she uses her brother against him.

He turns away from the shelves where he's all but given up on finding the crackers. "Nella, we are not buying cereal this time. We have plenty. But you can pick out the pizza for tonight, sound good?"

She gives him the most pathetic puppy dog eyes and he can only imagine where she learned that one from. Freaking Scott. What she doesn't know is that Stiles is a master at outlasting those eyes...he thinks. At least he used to be.

Thankfully he doesn't have to figure that out right at this second as their staredown is interrupted.

"Stiles Stilinski. What a coincidence." 

Stiles's flinches, automatically recognizing the voice. He loves Laura, really he does, he just doesn't have the energy today to do...well...anything. He just wants a freaking break.

"Laura, hi." The exhaustion probably leaks it's way into his voice if Laura's frown is any indication. 

"You look like sh-" She glances at the kids whose full attention is on her and Stiles, "Crap. You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks." 

Ty is the one who ends up finding his favorite crackers, choosing that exact moment to frantically point at them like they're going to disappear if Stiles doesn't pick them up _right now_. He tosses them into the cart.

"You know what I mean," Laura says, following him down the isle. "You look like you need a week-long nap and a good meal."

That actually sounds pretty amazing right about now. Not that he could afford it. But it's a nice thought.

"You know, I have some great babysitters I could give you numbers to," she continues when Stiles doesn't add anything. "Give yourself a day off. Or a night."

Is she...one glance at her suggestive face complete with waggling eyebrows shows that she is, in fact suggesting he go out and get laid. Or at least go on a date. Both of which are down right laughable.

He snorts. "Yeah. If I could ever afford an evening off."

"Well, I'm sure Michael would love to have Nella over. And if course Chase and Ty would be welcome."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that to you," he says, watching out of the corner of his eye as Nella slips her favorite fruit snacks into the cart and mentally adding it to the total cost of everything already in the cart. He's definitely going to have to get some work done this week.

"Oh please." Laura bumps her hip against his, effectively bringing him back to the present. "I'd love it. And they would have so much fun, they wouldn't even notice you're gone."

"Maybe..."

Chase was getting better at being around new people for an extended period of time. He was already past the point of needing Stiles to stay before kindergarten. And Ty, aside from the night before, was doing pretty good about letting Stiles know when he was overwhelmed. He probably wouldn't have a meltdown if Stiles weren't there for _one_ night. He was good for his dad, so....maybe...

"Think about it," Laura says, picking up on his hesitation. "In the mean time, what are your plans for today?"

"Um..." Nella is looking at him pointedly like she's about to veto his decision at any point. She's in a rather bossy mood today, something Stiles isn't prepared to handle on a good day. Today is definitely not Stiles' good day. "I'm not sure. Why? Got another knitting group for me to sign up for?"

Laura actually sticks out her tongue at that which is something Stiles never expected to see. 

"No," she says, the 'asshole' implied. "I was actually wondering if you'd like to join me and the kids at story time at the library."

Stiles pauses at that. "Story time?"

"Yup," she says, popping the 'p'. "Every Saturday at one. It's actually pretty entertaining, but also supervised enough to get some time to yourself."

And that's when the kids decide they're no longer children but little devils. Chase had wondered over to a display of cookies while Stiles was distracted and had chosen a box at the bottom, toppling the display. At the sudden noise, Ty starts shaking his head violently, crying "no" over and over again. Chase stands stock-still and stares at Stiles with the biggest eyes, terrified and Nella doesn't help by shouting at her brother.

"I should, um..." One of the workers appears at the end of the isle and she looks about ready to either explode or quit. "We have to go."

"I'll see you at story time," Laura says with a laugh as she walks away down the isle, the finality of her choice of words deciding for him.

They do end up going to story time, if only because Stiles needs just a few moments of peace and quite. Not that the kids section of the library is ever peaceful, but he likes the idea of not having to entertain the kids for an hour. He'd sit through over-dramatic reads of cheesy children books to obtain that.

They get to the library a bit early to check out some new books and to run off a bit of steam at the indoor playground. The older two pick out their allowed the books, helping him use the check out machine, before they run off to the play area with a ten minute warning. And Ty is picking out book after book, checking it over before approving it and handing it to Stiles. And while he's busy picking out a new book, Stiles puts the other book back. It's their process after his permitted five that he chose within the first ten seconds of arriving.

After he hands Stiles one more book, he smiles brightly at something over Stiles' shoulder before taking off at a dead run in that direction. Stiles is about to scold him when he turns and sees...

"Derek?" He stands with a small grunt, his knees popping. "What are you doing here?"

He slowly lowers Ty to the floor who instantly runs back towards to pick up where he left off. Derek flashes him a grin that totally doesn't make his stomach twist in excitement. Nope. 

"Same thing as you are, most likely," he says, stepping closer.

Stiles can't decide if he wants to shuffle closer or take a step back, so he stands perfectly still. Derek is smirking at him like he can read his mind. He blinks. What?

"You're here for story time?" he asks in confusion. 

"Stiles. Stiles," Nella says breathlessly, practically running into his legs in her excitement. "Guess who's here! Michael. He's here for story time."

"Indoor voice, Nel," he warns gently. He flattens her hair absentmindedly, scanning the room for Chase who's still occupied with the train set by the play area, and Ty who seems to be shoving books into Stiles' library bag at random. 

She gasps suddenly, and Stiles doesn't have to turn around to know that she just spotted Derek. He wasn't kidding when he says the dude was the girl's idol.

"Are you here for story time, too, Derek?" she asks, the words all melding into one.

" _Mr_. Derek," Stiles reminds her.

"I don't mind," Derek says softly before squatting to be at Nella's height. Stiles can see the tips of his ears turning pink even though he's trying to act casual. "Actually, I _am_ here for story time."

Nella gasps. "Can you sit by me?"

Stiles is about to remind Nella to use her "magic words" and that maybe Derek wants to sit with his own family when Derek barks out a laugh, surprising Stiles into silence. He totally lost his train of thought there.

"Actually," Derek whispers. He glances around like he's about to share something top secret. Nella leans in closer, totally playing into it. "I'll be a bit busy reading the stories to you."

Her eyes go as round as saucers and Stiles thinks she might be permanently stuck like that.

"Really?" she whispers in awe. Derek nods seriously. "Can I go tell Chase?"

She looks between Derek and Stiles like it's absolutely dire they say yes. Stiles nods his head, unable to hold back his fond smile, and when she gets Derek's approval, she takes off towards the play area at top speed.

"How do you do that?" Stiles asks, a bit in awe himself, as Derek rises.

Derek's eyebrows draw down in a stupidly cute way. Stiles should not have such strong feelings for eyebrows. But here he is. Smitten with the bushy things.

"Do what?"

Stiles waves his hand vaguely towards where Nella had disappeared. "That. Kids. How do you do it? How do you make it look so easy?"

Derek's face turns red, making his perfectly trimmed stubble even more prominent than before. Stiles decides in that moment it's his favorite look on the guy.

Derek rubs the back of his neck. "I don't know. They're just...excitable. About everything. I just play into that." He gives Stiles a look that he can't even begin to comprehend. "You're pretty good at it yourself."

"Not like that. Not like you. They fight me, on pretty much everything. Seriously, it's almost pathetic how many times I've lost to puppy eyes and fake tears. I'm weak, dude."

"Yeah, but..." Derek shrugs. "You're their dad. You have to be hard, have to be the one to put your foot down. I'm just the fun guy who let's them do whatever they want for an hour or two then sends them home to their parents to argue over having breakfast for dinner or to fight for ten more minutes of TV before bed."

If Stiles didn't know better, he'd say that Derek looks almost...sad, mournful. Like he wanted the full-time gig. The arguing and crying and screaming and midnight checks under the bed. He didn't want to just be the fun coach or story reader.

Stiles doesn't have long to ponder this before an elderly lady with grey hair and mismatched clothing politely interrupts to tell Derek they're ready for him. Derek flashes him a a quick smile before heading over to a room at the back of the library. A moment later the lady is calling everyone over for story time.

Stiles gathers the kids, leaving Ty's pile of books where it sits, and follows the rest of the children and parents into a room that is decorated like a forest. They sit on the floor near the back, much to Nella's disappointment, but Stiles needs to break away quickly if Ty or Chase become overwhelmed by the amount of people in the room.

Just then a knock sounds from somewhere near the giant tree that takes up half the stage. Some kids giggle as others stare wide-eyed as the knock sounds again.

"Someone open the door," Michael calls from his place near the front of the room, making a few parents chuckle.

A little girl in a tutu does just that, and out steps Derek, a giant smile on his face and adorable, fluffy ears on his head. He thanks the girl who blushes and quickly runs back to her parents as Derek steps further out onto the stage.

"Well, who do we have here," Derek asks as he scans the crowds. The kids giggle. "Young man," he points to a boy about Chase's age, "what are you all doing here? Are you faeries?"

The boy shakes his head vigorously.

"Are you...trolls?"

He shakes his head again and a bunch of kids giggle.

"Then what are you?"

"People!" one girl shouts eagerly.

"People?" Derek asks, a hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. "People. In this forest? That can't be true."

"It is," the little boy from before supplies. "We're people."

"Oh my goodness," Derek says, falling back into the large stump on stage like he can barely handle the news. Every kid in the room is raptly watching, and Stiles can't help but be dragged in to the act, as well.

"There haven't been humans in this forest for three centuries. Do you know how long that is?" Some kids shake their heads. "Three _hundred_ years. Three hundred years without humans. I didn't know they still existed."

On of the kids turns to his mother and says in a stage whisper, "That's older than you."

Stiles can see that Derek can barely contain his mirth, attempting to stay in character. The mother blushes and tells the child to pay attention.

"How can I be sure you're telling the truth?" Derek asks, continuing on with his skit. "How do I know you are truly humans."

Since kids start eagerly stating that "it's true" and "we're _not_ lying" as the parents all watch fondly. Derek gives them all a doubtful look but eventually says, "I suppose I'll have to believe you, for now. But us wolves, we can smell a lie a mile away."

There's a few more assurances from the kids before they're satisfied he believes them.

"Alright, humans. Explain to me what it is you're doing here."

"Story time!" Chase shouts suddenly, entirely absorbed in the act. The moment he says it though, he melts back into the wall like he can just disappear. Nella reaches her hand out and takes one of his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Story time, you say?" Derek asks, not attempting to hide his grin. "You all want a story?"

There's a loud chorus of agreements.

"Well...I suppose I have a story or two I could share," he says as he searches around for his books.

"Check the tree," Michael suggests with a giggle.

"Aw." He opens the door to the tree and rummages around for a moment before pulling out two books. "Here they are. I knew I had them somewhere. Sneaky little things."

He returns to the stump and settles in, asking one more time if the kids are _sure_ they want to hear a story.

"Let's see, this first book is one my mama wolf used to read to me," he tells the kids, holding up a book with a pack of dogs drawn on the cover. "It's called _From Wolf to Woof_ by Hudson Talbott. Would you like for me to read it?"

There's a resounding agreement.

Derek opens the book and begins. "Long, long ago. Before humans and dogs were friends. In fact, long before there were _dogs_ , there were," he pauses dramatically before he turns the page, "wolves."

The room is surprisingly quiet, all of the kids attention on the story Derek tells of how wolves became dogs, changing not only the canines themselves, but the humans they befriend. When he finishes, the parents send the room into a round of applause. A little girl up front is asking Derek something, but Stiles can't hear as he has his own little girl asking him questions.

"Is that real?" Nella asks, her eyes wide with hope. "Did wolves really turn into dogs?"

"To the best of my knowledge," Stiles says with a nod. He decides to look into it tonight to be able to say for sure.

"What do you say, should we read another?" Derek asks, bring the attention back to the front. There's an even louder cheer this time, and he waits until it calms before picking up another book.

This one Stiles knows and apparently so do most of the kids as they repeat his thoughts outloud to their parents.

As Derek details the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day that poor Alexander has to endure, Stiles closely watches Derek like the creep he is. He just can't help it. Derek has the entire crowd's attention, his energy and voices and little side comments drawing even the most reluctant audience members in. He pauses at the perfect moments, encourages the kids to join him in reading the repetitive bits, and mimes little actions to make the story more interactive. Stiles is captivated. He might be considering hired Derek to come read to the kids every night.

_There_ is _another way to get him over every night_ , a very cruel part of his brain suggests.

Stiles doesn't want to entertain the thought for even a moment. He doesn't need to get his hopes up over something so improbable. So...impossible. Derek was already dating someone. He was probably pretty serious with him too. And Stiles did _not_ need some sort of fling with the way his life was lately. Especially with the coach of Nella's little league team. Nope, nope, and triple nope.

Still, that little, annoying part of him held on desperately to the string of hope of _one day_. One day he could have someone like Derek for more than a one night stand. One day he could wake up in someone's arms for the rest of his life. One day he could raise more kids and it would be just as exhausting but a little less miserable with someone by his side to help carry the load of it all. And for the first time in his life, Stiles just  aches for it. One day.

Nella wants to stay after to talk with Derek and get more suggestions of wolf books to read, since now she is apparently obsessed with them. But Derek is surrounded by a gaggle of moms and Stiles just really wants to get home and ignore all those stupid _feelings_ he gets around Derek. So, they check out one more book each (hey, he isn't above bribery. It's pretty much his best friend) and they head for home with promises of soon returning.

***

"How was it?" Laura asks later as Derek drops Michael off at home. She's in the kitchen, balancing a feverish Hannah on her hip while grabbing a cold rag from the freezer.

Derek kisses Hannah's forehead in both affection and to test her temperature. She's still pretty warm but Laura doesn't think she needs the hospital, thankfully.

"It was good," Derek offers as he grabs an apple off the counter.

Laura has her eyebrows raised in a manner Derek knows distinctively as her _is that all I'm getting_ look. He sighs.

"It was fine. What more do you want from me?" He plops down on a stool unceremoniously.

"There happen to be a cute, very single father there?" she asks, barely able to contain her mirth.

"I...he..." He takes a breath. "What did you do, Laura?"

"What? Nothing." Her voice is a little high as she turns her back to him, making it seem like it's to place Hannah in her playpen, but Derek knows better. He levels a glare at her. "I swear. I did nothing. I was just running to the store earlier and saw Stiles there and happened to mention your story time at the library."

"Did you _happen_ to mention the fact that _I_ was the one doing the story time," he asks, already knowing the answer.

Laura shrugs as she moves back into the kitchen and starts pulling items from the dishwasher, her back once again to him.

"Laura," he growls in warning.

"What? So I didn't tell him who specially was going to be there. So what? Unless..." She turns suddenly, the full force of her glare on him. "Unless you did something to make him not _want_ to go. Something that would've scared him off if I did happen to mention your name...Derek?"

He stands his ground for all of ten seconds before deflating. "I tried to kiss him?"

"Tried?" She repeated, suddenly on the stool next to him. "What do you mean 'tried'?"

Derek groans and hides his face in his folded arms on the counter top. He mumbles something that Laura can't make out, though she's pretty sure where he's going with this.

She slaps him on the arm. "Derek."

"He backed away, okay?" he admits, a furious blush eating him alive. Living through that moment once was bad enough, he didn't want to have to repeat it. "I was going to kiss him and he looked like he wanted to kiss me too, then at the last moment he backed away. Then he left."

"Oh, Derek." She had the most pitiful look on her face which just made Derek sick. He didn't need her pity. He didn't need her anything. There was nothing she could do to fix this. "He didn't...say anything?"

Derek tries to think back. He pretty much blocked out everything after Stiles pulled away, but now that he thought about it...

"He said...it would ruin things and that I _shouldn't_ be kissing him, like...I don't know. Like it wasn't appropriate or something." Derek shrugs, biting into his apple but not tasting it. "I guess I misread him."

"Oh, no. They boy is definitely gay. Or bi," Laura says with absolute certainty. "Either way, he's entirely into you."

Derek raises a brow in disbelief. 

"Trust me, a sister knows. I don't even have to see him with you. Just bringing up your name perks his little ears up."

Derek may not fully believe her, but the idea definitely entrigued him. But why would he be so quick to shove him away? He understood his argument of not wanting anything they did to get in the way of the kids, he didn't want to force Nella to stop playing a sport she so obviously adored because he'd scared away her father, but the rest of it...Derek didn't understand.

Stiles had said he _shouldn't_ be kissing him. If he wasn't warding off unwanted approaches because he was straight, then...what?

One things for sure, he doesn't want to miss out on something great because he's too chicken to find the truth. 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a mess. Wanted to go further into Scott/Stiles' relationship, and that's where the mentioned threesome sprang from. Also...porn...cuz Stiles deserves a bit of loving even if it's the self loving variety.
> 
> *solo Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, Megan. THIS is the smexy chapter. My bad.

The next day, on his day off, the sheriff swings by in the morning to take the kids to the zoo for the day. Stiles loads him down with, like, five bags full of food and extra clothing and toys. It's his first day apart from the kids since they'd arrived on his doorstep, and while they seem okay with it (well, more than okay. It's the freaking zoo), Stiles is a nervous wreck. He just wants everything to go smoothly, and while he knows his father can handle it (he'd handled raising Stiles, hadn't he? Practically on his own. And he had turned out alright, right?), Stiles just wants to prepare for everything.  

As soon as they back out of the driveway, though, Stiles has Scott on the phone, calling in a long overdue bro-day.

While he's waiting, he cleans up the living room a bit, tossing toys into a giant basket by the couch, and takes a quick shower, jerking one out because seriously, it'd been _weeks_. And it might be pathetic for him to only get off in a few spare minutes in the shower, but he's a father now. A father of kids who know how to use door handles. This is his life now.

When Scott arrives, they gather all the junk food Stiles keeps hidden throughout the house before settling on the floor in front of the couch with the gamecube remotes already plugged in, Super Smash Bros already loaded. It had been their game for as long as either of them could remember, and they say stick to what you know, right?

They were about three rounds in before either of them spoke more than their typical shitty trash talk. And this time, it was Scott who broke first.

"I don't think I'm ready to be a father," he admits quietly, still bashing on the enemy. That was the other rule. Junk food, super bros, trash talk, and they kill the computer before each other.

Stiles snorts. "Dude, no one is ever ready to be a parent. Ever."

"I don't know. Allison seems pretty perfect at it already, and we haven't even had the kid."

"Typical Allison," Stiles jokes, but when he notices Scott's character not moving, he pauses the game and gives Scott his full attention. "Dude, seriously?"

Scott shrugs, picking at an invisible piece of lent on his jeans.

Stiles balks. "How could you possibly be bad at being a dad? You're awesome with kids."

"Yeah, but that's your kids. They're pretty awesome." Stiles waits.

While most people assume he never shuts up (which isn't always necessarily incorrect), he _does_ know how to listen and when it's best to just wait a person out. 

Scott sighs. "Kids I get, but babies." He does this thing with his hands that Stiles can't decipher before just dropping them in his lap. "They're just so...squishy."

Stiles can't help but laugh at that, which earns him a pleading look from from Scott. "Sorry...I just...dude, you knew Ty when he was a baby. You totally did great with him."

"Yeah. I guess."

"And you know if you need anything," Stiles continues, giving him a pointed look. "You can always come to me. Not that you will need help. Except maybe with watching the kid while you get a few hours rest, because they suck the living shit out of you. Trust me."

Scott bumps his shoulder against his, his million-watt smile already back in place. "Don't know what I would do without you, dude."

Stiles shrugs. "Probably drown in baby shit."

"God, Stiles. Why?"

"Babies shit a lot. Dude, you have another thing coming for ya."

"I thought you were trying to comfort me here," Scott says with a laugh.

"I'm just trying to be real," Stiles says, biting back a smile. "You're in for a world of pain. Smelly, liquid-y, smeary sh-hey!"

Scott laughs, already throwing in a few good hits to Stiles' character before he's able to react.

"Rude, dude," he says throwing up shields and punches. "You're totally breaking the rules."

"You started it," Scott says, shoving Stiles with his shoulder which starts a real-life wrestling match which Stiles totally ends up winning, no matter what Scott says.

They only pause for bathroom breaks and food refills as they play their way through a few other games, most of which Stiles hates if only because the only game he's actually halfway decent at is Smash Bros. Hence why it's his pick.

Stiles is seconds away from throwing his control at the TV (not that it would be the first time for that to happen), when Scott, the ever-wonderful buddy that he is, pauses the game and asks, "Food break?"

They scour the kitchen for something edible and preferably greasy, and end up popping a few corndogs in the oven. Sorry, Chase.

"So..." Scott says from his place on the countertop across from Stiles. They're keeping themselves entertained by hitting one of the kids' bouncy balls across the kitchen to each other.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow and waits for him to continue. When he doesn't, Stiles laughs, aiming the ball at Scott's face.

"Sooo...?" he prompts.

"Soo..." Scott tries again, looking anywhere but Stiles' face. "Any new...people I should know about?"

Stiles stares at him in confusion for all of three seconds. "People? That's how you approach this conversation?" Scott blushes. Serves him right. "This is coming from Allison, isn't it?"

Scott gives him the worst case of puppy eyes. "Dude, I'm sorry. She made me promise I'd ask, but you're not supposed to tell. God, please don't tell her."

"Dude." This time he manages to hit Scott in the face, the ball bouncing to the ground where they're both too lazy to go after it. "Relax, I'm not going to rat you out."

Scott gives him the goofiest smile, hopping down from the counter to retrieve the ball.

"And no...there isn't a _person_ ," Stiles admits with a shrug. "No peoples for Stiles. As people-less as ever."

Scott frowns at him. "What about Cora's brother...Derek? You two seemed to hit it off at the party."

Stiles flushes furiously. He'd rather forget about that night if he could, but of course the only time Scott ever notices anything is at this exact moment.

"I knew it!" he cheers. "Way to go, bro."

"There's nothing to congratulate," he says petulantly. "The opposite, actually."

Scott waits for him to explain further and Stiles sighs. There's no way or of this.

"He almost kissed me. The night of the barbeque. And I...well I almost let him."

"Why didn't you? Do you not like him?"

Stiles' mouth may or may not have open like a fish. "Um...have you seen him? The guy's like a Greek god or some shit. Plus the kids seem to like him, like really like him, but..." Stiles forgets where he's going with this. "I can't just have casual flings whenever I want, you know. Not anymore. Not with the kids to think of. Plus, he's taken, so it's kind of a moot point."

Scott is utterly confounded in front of him. "Wait. What? Taken by who?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. Leave it to Scott to not notice these things. He loves the guy, he truly does, but he's pretty damn oblivious to pretty much everything.

"Isaac, duh."

"Issac's not...they don't...Stiles." He stops to make sure he has Stiles' full attention. "He and Derek are _not_ together, trust me."

The disbelief must leak across Stiles' face because Scott is huffing in frustration and hopping off the counter to stand next to Stiles like someone was going to overhear their conversation.

"He told me, personally, okay?" Scott says, his cheeks tinged with pink. "He and I were...we talked some. This weekend. And he told me he wasn't involved with anyone. He and Derek are just friends, college roommates, actually."

"How exactly do you know so much," Stiles asks, his eyes narrowing.

"We talked." He shrugs.

"You and Isaac talked." A nod. "About his love life."

Scott blushes deeply, looking anywhere but at Stiles. Why was he acting so weird, well, weirder. He only ever got this way when...

"Oh. My. God. He hit on you," Stiles shouts in surprise. He can't believe it.

Scott shushes him like the house can somehow hear them and is about to go run and tell-

"Does Allison know?" 

Scott shuffles his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "She...yeah, she knows."

"And what, she's okay with it? What are you guys fighting or something?" He gasps. "Are you getting divorced? Scott please tell me you are not leaving Allison for a douche like Isaac."

"He's not-dude, I'm not leaving Allison. We...I...we're not fighting, okay. We're doing, like, really good. Like, really _really_ good." 

He's staring at Stiles like he can force his meaning into Stiles' mind. But Stiles only gets more confused. Then Scott does this dance-y thing with his eyes, and Stiles had gotten good at wordlessly communicating with Scott over the years, so he's kind of getting it, but-

"You're having a threesome?!" Stiles shouts at the top of his lungs which earns him another shush. "Oh my god. You're having a threesome, before me. I can't believe this."

"It's not...we haven't really discussed anything, yet," Scott says, blushing down to his bones.

"Yet?" Stiles blinks. "Yet? What does 'yet' mean?"

"I don't know...we just...we're...considering things."

"Oh my god. I have to sit down." Only...he is sitting down so what's the protocol in this situation. Should he be putting his head between his knees? Does that even work? He doesn't feel like that would work.

"Aren't you being a little dramatic," Scott asks with a sigh, before filling a glass with water and forcing it into Stiles' hands.

"Dude," Stiles says after downing the whole thing in one go. "I just found out my best friend and his _pregnant wife_ are considering having a threesome with some dude they just met at a freaking family barbeque. How are you not freaking out?"

Scott shrugs. "I dunno. We've kind of been considering it for a while now."

"Oh my god. I do not need to know that."

"You asked!"

They sit there in silence for a moment, Stiles trying to find order to his newly shaken world. The oven timer buzzes, and they both silently take their three dogs out before making their way back to their spots in front of the couch.

"I'm not judging you or anything," Stiles eventually says, his mouth full. "I think I'm just in shock. I never thought you'd do something sexually adventurous before me."

"Hey, I had sex before you," Scott protests. 

Stiles waves him off. "Doesn't count. Boring, fumbling around in the dark, hetero sex is not adventurous."

Scott snorts. "Whatever, dude."

They fall back into their routine of Stiles cussing out the game while attempting at trash talking Scott to hopefully distract him enough to mess up, even a little, which never works but doesn't deter Stiles. One day.

"Stiles?" Scott asks at one point, eyes never leaving the game. Stiles hums in response. "Don't tell Allison I told you?"

Stiles scoffs. "Yeah. I'd rather keep my dick attached to my body, thank you very much."

Scott nudges him with his elbow. "You're so weird."

** 

Tuesday, Stiles has the day off from the bookstore, so he and Ty stay home and Stiles tries desperately to meet his deadlines while entertaining an entirely too-energetic toddler. Still, he somehow gets all the work due that day done and starts on the next load of projects by the time Allison swings by to pick up Ty.

She practically begged him (yes, you did Allison) to have the kids for a couple of hours every week, claiming it to be practice or something. Stiles didn't care what she called it. He got a few hours to himself to just _breathe_. I mean, he had a few other things in mind, but breathing was totally in the top five.

Stiles feels about as excited as a virgin at prom (he would know) as he locks the front door and practically races up the stairs. He honestly hasn't had this much time to himself in months which means he's had plenty of time to come up with ideas as to what to do when he finally got a moment alone. He's going to take his sweet-ass time.

Or at least that was the plan. He isn't even fully naked by the time he has his hand around his dick, already fully hard. God, this is going to be embarrassingly quick. _Not that anyone is there to see him_ , his brain helpfully adds.

Stiles pulls off and squeezes the base of his dick as it quickly becomes too much. He moans, his hips instinctively trying to follow the pleasure. Yeah. Definitely going to be a quick one.

He decides to draw it out as much as he can though, reaching over into his bedside table to pull out the lube and his trusty plug that hasn't seen the light of day in...an embarrassingly long time. He drops both items on the bed and decides to tease himself to make his orgasm just that much better.

He runs his hands down his chest, stopping for a moment to flick his nipples, making him gasp and his cock twitch. It's already leaking, but he bypasses it to go further back, his dry finger brushing against his opening in a way that sends shivers all along his spine. He rubs at it for a few moments, not trying to penetrate just yet, until he can't take it any more.

He reaches out blindly for the lube, popping the cap when he finds it and spreads a liberal amount on his fingers before dropping his hand back down behind his balls, briefly pressing against his taint in a way that makes him moan. When he finally gets to his hole, he's breathing hard, already so far gone. He presses in, slowly, so slowly, until he can't any more with the angle that he's at. He only has to thrust a few times before he can slip the second finger in and, oh god, yes. That's the spot.

He starts slowly fucking himself on his fingers, shifting his hips down as he fucks his fingers up, his cock twitching with each brush against his prostate. He can already feel a cramp forming in his arm but he's close. So goddamn close.

He's gasping, crying out to the empty room, begging for more, begging to be filled. He hasn't even touched his cock yet, but he doesn't care. Wants to see how far he can get without stroking himself, and at this point, he might just come untouched.

But he needs something. He needs something else. He's so fucking close, but he just can't...quite...get there.

He slips his fingers out of his ass, gasping at the sensation of clenching around air as he grabs his plug. It's a bit wider than his fingers, so he lubes it up generously before pressing it against his greedy hole. He braces down and...oh god. Fuck yes.

It slides in smoothly until he can feel the wide base pressing against his spread ass cheeks. It feels amazing, pressing against his prostate with every twitch his hips give. 

He starts fucking himself with the plug, moaning against his pillow in desperation, his cries filling the empty room.

"Please, please, please," he starts repeating like a mantra. Like begging could get him off faster. God, he needs...

"Please, fuck, Derek." Once the words leave his mouth, he can't seem to hold back. He shouldn't be doing this but, no one's around. No one has to know. "God, Derek, fuck."

He can see the man, kneeling at the foot of the bed, stroking his cock leisurely as he watches Stiles laid out before him, working himself open, desperately. He can feel his eyes roaming over his body, bringing heat to wherever they touched. He'd make Stiles work for it before finally feeding him his cock, in whatever hole he pleased.

Stiles comes, back arching off the bed in a glorious show no one is there to witness. His dick pumps out a few loads of cum before twitching against his belly in an attempt to keep going as he slowly slides the plug from his ass. He wants more. God, does he want more. He's too sensitive at the moment, but that isn't even the only "more" he's talking about.

He shakes the thought from his head before it forms into something he can't possibly control, and reluctantly climbs out of bed to clean himself off. Dry cum is not fun.

After his quick shower, he decides to leave his clothes off and walk around naked. Half too lazy to dress if he doesn't have to, and half in celebration of his newly found freedom, however brief it may be. He makes himself a late lunch and eats it in front of the TV as he channel surfs. He doesn't really have the time to follow shows anymore, let alone Netflix binge like he used to.

It isn't too long before he's bored and goes upstairs to grab his laptop, settling back on his bed to watch some porn. He's trolling through some of his expertly organized bookmarks when he finally finds something of value, setting his laptop beside him on his bed and pulling on his half-interested dick.

The men in the video are halfway through the second position when Stiles realizes he might have a problem. One of the dudes on screen, the top (though Stiles has seen this porn star bottom before and he probably has the video saved somewhere), looks an awful lot like Derek with his tan skin and hairy arms (well, really...hairy everything) and deep grunts. And the other is thinner, paler, smoother.

Stiles has subconsciously chosen a video staring their doppelgangers. He should really close out of it and find another video or _something_ , but he can't seem to make himself. It would only be this one time, he tells himself, already tugging on his cock again. It doesn't take long to get him right to the edge again with the picture of him and Derek floating around his head.

The guy was just attractive, okay. And sweet. And just really good with kids. Which really shouldn't be a turn on, but it was his kids and that pulled at something instinctual inside him. Something that screamed "provider" and "mate", not that he was planning on mating the guy.

Stiles tries to shut down his thinking side of his brain and just feel, for once. Feel he can do. God, feeling good.

He runs his hand up and down his shaft firmly, flicking his thumb over the head with each pass in a way that drives him wild. Soon he has enough precum to slick the way for his strokes, the friction becoming almost too good to bear. How is he this close already? He blames the extended time of only quick jerks in the shower. He's lost his edge.

The guys on the screen are approaching orgasm, their moans getting filthier and filthier, and Stiles is right there with them. And when Derek's doppelganger growls as he cums, Stiles cums in surprised pleasure.

So...growling...that's a thing.

He's able to get off two more times before Allison drops the kids off after dinner, and he's so fucking tired, so _sated_ , that he passes out as soon as he gets the kids washed and in bed. Right before he looses consciousness, a smile plastered on his face, he decides he needs more days like these.

**

"Ty, buddy, come on. Work with me here."

Stiles is not above literally getting down on his knees and begging a toddler. Especially since they'd been in Walmart...oh, god...forty-five minutes, when they were only supposed to take fifteen at most. This was a get-in-get-out situation. Not only had Ty vetoed all six of Stiles' costume choices, but he'd also decided a few minutes after picking out some on his own that he no longer liked them, in an endless process that lead them no where. Stiles was loosing his mind.

"Come on, bud," he tries again. He's so close to just choosing a costume he's sure Ty will love, even if it means carrying a screaming child through the check out. He's not above that either. "You like ninja turtles, remember?"

Ty shakes his head vigorously, trying to squirm his way out of Stiles' hold.

"Spiderman?" Stiles suggests holding up the next selection.

"Noooo!"

"Then what do you want?"

Ty collapses in his arms and Stiles grunts with the sudden weight. Yup. They're done. Now to just find the other two...

"Stiles!" Nella shouts just then, booking it at top speed down the aisle with a costume in hand. "Look!"

She skids to a stop just in front of him, breath labored, and holds up her find. It's a baseball uniform, complete with the cap and face paint for the lines under the eyes.

"Awesome," Stiles says with a smile as he struggles to stand. One down... "Where's your brother?"

She shrugs, her entire attention on placing her costume oh-so-carefully into the cart. Stiles hefts Ty into the foldable seat of the cart where he continues his dead man routine, and they go to find Chase whose only one aisle over. He's standing by the boys selection of costumes but his eyes keep flitting further down the aisle.

"Find anything you like," Stiles asks as they approach him. Chase turns, his eyes wide as ever like he'd just been caught doing something he knows he shouldn't. As Stiles pushes the cart closer, he can see why.

Just passed where Chase stands, there's an entire selection of Elsa costumes, complete with gloves and wigs and everything. When Stiles looks back down at Chase, he's ducking his head and wringing his hands, probably wanting to be anywhere but here. Stiles frowns. There's absolutely no reason Chase should feel guilty about liking a piece of cheaply made fabric (whatever its cut) no matter what most of society said.

Stiles walks right up to the costume and pulls Chase's size from the rack. 

"This one's pretty," Stiles says, running his hand over the dress. It actually itches and covers his hand entirely in glitter. Great. "What do you think, Nella?"

Chase's head jerks up violently and he looks back and forth between them. Nella is staring at the dress in question with her brows drawn in confusion.

"For Chase?" she asks finally. Chase is staring at her with a mixture of fear and hope. "I guess. I thought he'd like Anna more, though."

That's his girl.

"It's your choice, Chase," she says, flashing him an encouraging smile. "You can be whoever you want."

Stiles doesn't believe she understands the implications her words have, but Stiles does. And that's how Stiles almost breaks down crying in the middle of the costume aisle of a Walmart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely blushing here, guys. My first attempt at writing porn and I'm half proud, half ready to go to confession. Major blushes.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter totally took me for a ride. Apparently I will continue to write super long, super depressing chapters? Enjoy some lovely Sterek moments while you can.

Friday finally rolls around and the house is in complete shambles. The kids are allowed to wear their costumes to school as long as there are no masks or face paint, so Nella is ecstatic. She sleeps in her costume the night before, explaining to Stiles that it'd be easier in the morning, which Stiles can't really argue with.

Chase doesn't want to wear his costume to school, which Stiles can understand. Kids could be vicious about things they don't understand. Still, he wants Chase to feel comfortable enough to enjoy what all the other kids take for granted. So Stiles stays up the night before to glue together a headband and tail attachment for Chase to wear, completing his wolf costume he's wearing to school.

Ty is running around the house in the Michelangelo outfit Stiles had bought him, since Stiles couldn't let the big kids wear their costumes all day and refuse Ty the same pleasure. He isn't a monster.

Plus it helps him look a little less weird as he goes about his day dressed as a badass Lil' Red. Red hair dye, tattoo sleeves, red cape, and baseball bat, completing the look. He even has a freaking fake lip ring in that he makes him suddenly play with the idea of getting one for real. It's beyond fun to play with.

He gets the kids to school only ten minutes late, which really, he should get an award for since they'd all woken up late and Nella had fought him on what was appropriate for lunch on Halloween. She kept saying that everyone else was going to be eating worms and blood and boogers and it wasn't fair that she was the only one that wouldn't be. Of course that sent Chase into a fit and Stiles had to tell him over and over again that Nella was just joking and no, he would not be opening his lunchbox to worms or blood, even the fake kind, and yes, he could watch as Stiles made his lunch which took extra long because he had to check every ingredient.

So, yes. Stiles should be receiving an award for just staying alive today.

Of course, dropping the kids off at school late means that he arrives late to work. Not that Stiles thinks he should be working on a day like this, he honestly believes it should be a bank holiday and has written many a letter to argue just that point. Who actually worked on Halloween? His dad didn't even have to work on Halloween, Lydia. Well, during the day, but that's besides the point.

Lydia just ignores his extra serving of complaints today and takes off around noon, saying something about picking up the perfect costume a few towns over, leaving Stiles to close early. He makes it just in time to pick up the kiddos from school.

They head over to his dad's house for an early dinner and to watch the Stilinski traditional Halloween film, _It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_. Before Stiles knows it, the kids are hopped up on candy and the first trick-or-treaters are knocking at the door. Stiles let's his dad snap a few pictures of them all and pretends to not notice the moisture pooling in the Sheriff's eyes. He knows exactly what his dad is thinking because he's thinking of her right now, too.

Not a day goes by that Stiles doesn't think of his mother to some degree. It's usually in passing, less of a pain that embodies his entire being and more a small stone in his gut that will always weigh him down and make his stomach churn. But at moments like these, Stiles can't help but wonder what it would be like to have her here, doting on the kids and merrily handing out candy at the door.

She'd love his kids, he decides. Well, obviously. Claudia Stilinski hadn't hated a single soul on the whole earth. But she'd take one look at them and accept them as her own grandbabies, not caring what anyone said about paperwork or logistics. Stiles was a lot like her, he supposed. The second his eyes had landed on each of those fuckers, he'd decided right in that moment that he wouldn't give up on them without a fight. They deserved at least that much. If Stiles couldn't give them anything more, he'd at least make sure they had at least one human being on their side.

Suddenly feeling bittersweet, Stiles pulls his dad into a hug, one that the sheriff doesn't seem very prepared for but quickly reciprocates.

"What was that for?" the sheriff asks when they separate.

There was really too much he could choose from. His dad had been his rock his whole life, and now, now he not only meant everything to him but to his kids as well.

"Thanks, you know." Stiles shrugs. "For everything."

His dad cups the back of his neck, squeezing it affectionately. "You're not getting soft on me, are ya kid?"

Stiles shoves him back playfully, grabbing all of the things the kids had dragged into the house. "You wish, old man."

"You kids have fun," the sheriff calls from the door as Stiles packs the kids and their gear into the van.

"We will," he calls back, rounding the front of the van to reach the driver side.

"I was talking to the actual kids." His dad sighs like he just doesn't know what to do with Stiles, but he has a big grin covering his face.

"I know." Stiles flashes him a shiteating grin before backing out of the driveway, heading to their super secret destination.

**

As much as Stiles likes to believe he plans for everything (even his contingencies have contingencies), he really could not have prepared himself for the Knottsberry Pumpkin Patch and Corn Field on Halloween night. It's absolute chaos, something he thrives on, but his kids avoid like the plague.

All three of them have been clinging to his side since they arrived, barely allowing Stiles to breathe, let alone move.

The corn maze seems a bit intense for them, so instead, Stiles grabs one of the remaining wagons and leads them out to the field of pumpkins. There are a LOT less people out here, most kids swarming around the various attractions towards the front of the farm. Not his kids, though, and for once Stiles is incredibly grateful for that, since he also doesn't want to navigate the few hundred people choosing to spend their night at the pumpkin patch. Of course.

"Alright, let's find the perfectest pumpkins in this place," Stiles says with a clap of his hands.

Nella and Chase are looking at him like he's crazy, which really wouldn't be the first time, but Stiles isn't pulling any of his usual shit tonight.

"What?" he asks, looking down at himself to see if he had his fly open or like a giant bug on him. Nothing. "It's just pumpkin picking. It doesn't actually have to perfect. Just get whatever calls out to you."

Ty is already doing just that, toddling down the rows and rows of pumpkins, knocking against one here or picking one up there before moving on to the next.

"Why?" Nella asks. She sounds genuinely confused.

"Why?!" Stiles may or may not actually screech this. The kids are acting like they've never...oh, god. "You guys have carved pumpkins before, right?"

They both shake their heads, uncertainty written all over their face.

Stiles has to take a moment to remember that this isn't actually the end of the world. There were probably millions of kids who've never carved a pumpkin. You know. The ones that didn't celebrate Halloween or were too little to enjoy the concept of creating Jack-o-lanterns. Yeah. Totally normal.

"Okay," he says finally, trying for a new approach. "Well, the goal tonight is to find a good sized pumpkin that we'll take home and carve a face into, or really, whatever you want. Then we'll put them on the porch with a candle inside and we can see the faces glow."

They seemed to be warming up to the concept, glancing around at the pumpkins nearest to them.

Stiles starts walking down the row that Ty disappeared down. "My favorite kind of pumpkin is tall and kind of flat on one side so I can have a lot of space to work with." He squats down next to a pumpkin, rolling it over to find half of it smashed it. He continues on, the kids trailing behind him occasionally rolling over their own pumpkin. "Scott swears the best pumpkin is perfectly round, but you have to work the bend into your design. Which seems like just too much work to me."

"I don't know. Sounds like he has the right idea to me," a very familiar voice says just then.

Stiles whips his head up to find Derek freaking Hale in the middle of fucking Knottsberry Pumpkin Patch and Corn Maze, Ty resting casually in his arms. Arms that are covered quite nicely by the leather jacket he has on.

Of course, Stiles thinks, mentally rolling his eyes. He just has to have a leather jacket.

"I...you...what are you doing here?" Stiles asks, completely flabbergasted. No sane person over ten would choose to spend their Halloween night buying discount pumpkins that no one else wanted. Hence why Stiles was there.

Derek smirks at him, one eyebrow perfectly quirked, like he'd somehow heard his unsaid words. Before he can answer though, not that Stiles is sure he would if he had the chance, they're interrupted.

"There you are, sheesh," Cora says as she comes upon them. "Stilinski," she offers briefly before turning back to Derek. "I thought the plan was to go through the maze, not...this."

"I was just returning something," Derek says with an eye roll, and if Stiles finds their sibling bickering adorable, who is anyone to know. Derek bends down to place Ty on the ground, who, of course, chooses this exact moment to refuse to let go, and when Derek tries to coax him again, he grips Derek around the neck stubbornly.

"Ty, buddy," Stiles says, stepping in to help. "Let's let Derek here go, okay?"

Ty shakes his head against Derek's neck, who's looking completely lost at the moment. Understandably so, considering how absolutely uncharacteristically Ty is acting.

"Ty, come on. We have to pick out a pumpkin for you. Don't you want a pumpkin?"

"No!" Ty screams, probably breaking Derek's eardrum in the process.

Stiles stumbles a step back. "He doesn't usually do this," he tells Derek. Well...not to anyone but him.

"Uncle Derek! Uncle Derek," Michael shouts as he comes upon the scene, carrying a kid not much older than Ty, who Stiles presumes to be his sister. "Can we please get cotton candy before the maze? Please?"

"I, um." Derek glances down at Ty who has not budged. "I can take him on the maze, if you don't mind that is. Or...I can stay here."

Stiles stares at him, wide eyed. Who the hell offers to miss out on their own Halloween to babysit someone else's stubborn two-year-old?

Michael stares at his uncle with big, pleading eyes, begging silently for him to choose the maze over standing out in a field, picking rotten pumpkins. And Stiles isn't even going to try to decipher the look Cora is giving them both. Nope. Not going there.

"Can I go to?" Nella says suddenly, tugging on Stiles' pants.

"What about the pumpkins," Stiles says as he looks desperately at the darkening field. He'd had this all planned out, but if course, when you throw kids into the mix, plans never hold up.

He sighs. "Yeah, sure. You go through the maze, I'll stay out here with Chase."

The kid in question steps closer to his sister and takes her hand, starting stoically ahead.

"Unless....Chase also now wants to go through the maze..." A slight nod. "Okay. We're all doing the maze, apparently."

Michael cheers, starting back towards the entrance of the maze, rambling on and on about cotton candy and prizes and something about clowns that Stiles truly hopes he's just joking about. He did not sign up for clowns.

They end up at the cotton candy booth, both Nella and Chase totally on board with Michael's idea of straight up sugar on a stick, and when Stiles steps up to order two bags, Derek is already standing there, handing them out for him. When Stiles tries to pay him back for them (since he apparently will no longer need the money for pumpkins), Derek refuses and freaking _walks away_ before Stiles can say anything. Jerk.

As soon as they enter the maze, the kids decide that it's a race and take off at a run with Cora, leaving Stiles to hang back with Derek and Ty who seems to be asleep on Derek's shoulder. Stiles could probably pry Ty away from Derek and wait on one of the foldable tables until the kids made it out, but he doesn't. It's not entirely un-enjoyable to walk through a corn maze with Derek as the heat starts to mellow out with the setting sun.

The kids only cross their path once, quickly running in the opposite direction, screaming, which Stiles can't help but laugh at. Other than the few families that pass them, it's completely quiet. And Stiles is not a fan of quiet.

"Laura stuck you and Cora with babysitting duty, huh?" Stiles asks, taking them down a new path. Dead end. "Didn't have any hot dates or ritual sacrifices to make at a haunted graveyard?"

Derek looks at him like he regrets walking into a nearly-empty cornfield with no one to save him if Stiles suddenly went manic. Not that anyone would have to save Derek "biceps as big as Stiles' head" Hale. And who would ever be so cruel as to even think of injuring that glorious body? Definitely not Stiles.

"We only sacrifice virgins, so if you're offering," Derek deadpans. It takes Stiles a moment to realize he's joking. Derek freaking Hale just made a joke. The man may literally play with children for a living (nope, that sounds bad), but he doesn't look like he'd know a joke if it hit him in his overly-attractive face.

Either way, Stiles barks out a laugh that ends up forcing a snort out in a super, entirely attractive way, he's sure.

"Cora and I like to give Laura and Logan a night off every once and awhile," he eventually admits when Stiles finally has control over his breath again.

Damn. Another dead end. Stiles sucks at these things.

"That must be nice," he says absentmindedly. When he sees Derek's quirked brow, he adds, "Nights off, I mean. Those are hard to come by. Not that I, like, hate my kids. Because I don't. But you know...one night of just peace and quite, don't often get those."

Derek gives him this unreadable look, which Stiles chooses to ignore in favor of leading them down....another dead end. Goddamn it.

"I swear to god this maze is rigged," he says, stomping off in another direction.

"It's not that bad," Derek says with a chuckle.

"Oh?" Stiles turns, hands on his hips and eyebrows up to his hairline. "Think you could do better? Mr. Big Bad Wolf can get us out faster."

Stiles blushes, realizes what he'd just said. Derek quirks a brow at him, smirk returning full force.

"Shut up," Stiles says petulantly.

Derek only chuckles more, and Stiles doesn't miss the way Derek's eyes drop to his mouth for the briefest of moments where he's been nervously playing with his fake lip ring.

Derek does get them out, the ass. Not that Stiles is really upset at him since he was beginning to feel like they were never going to get out and could feel the beginnings of a panic attack crawl at his skin.

The kids are waiting just beyond the edge of the maze and bombard them with "I told you so"s and "we totally won"s, and Stiles is pleased to see Chase comfortable enough to join in. It'd taken both Stiles' and Nella's full effort to get him out of the van when they'd pulled up to the farm. While he seemed to be comfortable enough to wear his Anna costume (Nella's insistence) to the sheriff's house, once they actually arrived at the farm, he'd frozen up. Now, he didn't seem to even care, which Stiles never thought he should have to worry about it, but it was good to see him come out of his shell a bit.

They hang around a bit longer, trying out the different carnival-style games, Nella showing off her skills with the milk bottles by knocking two out of the three sets down. They even all pile in to take the tractor-drawn hayride around the farm, the kids excitedly pointing out different attractions they liked the most.

And when they all head back to the parking lot, Ty finally back in Stiles' arms, Cora turns to them and states with quite a bit of finality, "You're all coming back to the house for the bonfire."

Stiles blinks at her. "Oh...I...I don't know..." The kids are looking at him with big puppy dog eyes, but he pointedly ignores them. "We should probably head home and I really don't want to intrude."

"Not intruding," she says as she places Hannah in her carseat. "Talia's orders."

Stiles isn't quite sure what that's supposed to mean, but Cora is set on the idea of them following her, and Derek is giving him this face that seems to say 'what can you do', and really, what can Stiles do? He gets the kids settled in the car and follows Cora out of the parking lot.

The house they pull up to half an hour later is...glorious. That's really the only word Stiles can use to describe it. It's less a house than it is a mansion with it's three stories and hundreds of windows and huge wraparound deck. It's...glorious.

It also probably means that the Hales are rich as fuck. Probably old family money that allows them to choose if they want to work and let's them blow money on senseless things like the row of ridiculously expensive cars that line the driveway. Stiles may be a teensy bit jealous, but he's also beyond intimidated. He doesn't know how to act around rich people and he's wearing his shoes that have holes in them since he just keeps forgetting to replace them and really they aren't that uncomfortable, he can deal, and-

The front door flies open before Stiles can formulate a plan of escape and a woman, presumably Mrs. Hale (though she doesn't look much older than Laura) steps out onto the porch regally.

"Come on, Stiles," Nella says as she undoes both her and her brother's seatbelts. "Michael says they just got a new puppy and he's going to show me the tricks he's teaching her."

As soon as she and Chase are out of the car, they take off after Michael into the house. Ty is just as eager for the new puppy, but Stiles holds him back because he's determined to have at least one polite child tonight.

"You must be Stiles," the woman says as he approaches the porch stairs. "I'm glad to finally put a face to the person I've heard so much about."

Stiles blinks at her. What?

He glances over at Derek who is looking like he'd rather be anywhere in the world but here. Interesting.

She holds out her hand. "I'm Talia Hale. Please, come in. We just finished dinner and Jeremy is starting the bonfire out back. I'm so glad you could join us."

As if he had a choice, he thinks petulantly. Talia flashes him a wolfish grin like she can read his thoughts. He swallows. Definitely intimidating.

Stiles follows them inside and is completely blown away once again. It all looks straight out of some magazine with the massive fireplace and grandeur staircase and beautiful wood flooring that runs through the whole house. But as Stiles looks closer, there are hints that people actually do live here. There are kids toys hidden in random nooks and crannies, a basket of clothes sitting by a door that probably leads down to a laundry room, and photos are scattered around the room, covering every available surface. Stiles steps up to the one closest to him and is greeted by the Hale family maybe...ten years ago.

"Not my shining moment," Derek says, suddenly behind him. Stiles can feel his breath on the back of his neck, and he holds as still as possible so as not to break the moment. "Though, sophomore year isn't really good on anyone."

Stiles focuses back on the photograph, easily picking out a young Derek. He can't help but smile. He was absolutely adorable. Stiles would've so had a crush on him at that age. Not that he...nevermind.

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles asks, playfully shoving him with his shoulder. "I had the dorkiest looking buzz cut that year. I was all awkward and had, like, no control over my limbs. I was a total geek."

"I see nothing's changed."

"Hey!"

Stiles decides right then in that moment Derek is most beautiful close up, when one could appreciate not only the beauty that is his face but also the imperfections. Like his bunny teeth and his wild eyebrows and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Derek gives him this...well Stiles doesn't actually know what that look is but it probably means he's been uncharacteristically quiet for too long and staring at another guy's face much longer than is socially acceptable.

"Sooo...where's this bonfire I've been hearing about?" Stiles asks in a totally cool, totally not obvious way.

Derek stares at him for a moment longer before jerking his head towards something over his shoulder. "I'll show you."

Derek leads Stiles through a huge living room with one of those sectional couches that could probably hold the whole town and a ginormous TV (sigh), through an open concept kitchen with an attached dining room, again, capable of serving at least twelve people, and out the sliding glass door to the covered deck.

"How many people live here?" Stiles finds himself asking.

The kids are already out back, running around the yard with a small border collie who's playfully nipping at their ankles. Seeing this, Ty wiggles his way out of Stiles' arms and joins them. Traitor.

"Um...fifteen? Sixteen?" Derek says with a shrug, plopping down into a chair next to the decently-sized fire. "My mom's brother and his family live here with my parents and Cora. And Laura and Logan moved in with the kids when they moved back from New York a few months ago."

"And you?" He sits as close to the fire as possible, already shivering despite his layers and the Californian weather.

"I have a house a couple of miles from here," Derek says, looking at the fire before tossing another log on it. "It's not completely finished, but it's insulated. I do have to come here for hot water, though."

"Wait. You're building a house?"

Derek shrugs as he watches the kids tire of chasing the puppy around and are now trying to teach it to roll over with no success. "It's not too complicated. I spent my high school summers working construction. And once you get the basics..."

"I..." He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know what goes in to making a house, can barely handle Ikea furniture. "I'm impressed."

It may be dark outside, the light coming from the fire low, but Stiles swears he sees a blush spread across Derek's cheeks.

"Uncle Derek," Michael says breathlessly as he crashes into Derek's legs with his speed. "Can we have marshmallows now? Please?"

Derek chuckles. "Abuela is in charge of that. Why don't you go ask her?"

He nods vigorously before taking off towards the house at the same speed he'd approached them. Less than a minute later, he rushes back out, Talia on his heels carrying a tray of goodies.

She calls the kids to the bonfire and soon Cora and a man who introduces himself as Jeremy "Talia's other half" join them all in rotating between supervising the children and creating s'mores for themselves. Cora introduces Stiles to the magic that is peanut butter m&m stuffed marshmallows, which has Derek ranting in outrage about ruining the simple, purity that is s'mores in a way Stiles has never seen him.

This is the most fun Stiles has had in quite some time. All of the kids are overjoyed at the chance to stay up past their bedtime and gorge themselves on candy. Stiles is actually having stimulating, adult conversations with adult people that doesn't revolve around the kids. He got a taste of it at Scott's barbeque last week, but even that had been the first gathering they'd managed in months, with everyone working and traveling and Stiles taking in new kids. He's missed this.

Eventually the thrill of sugar and a giant open flame wears off and Talia sets the kids up with a movie in the living room, wishing them all a good night. And after nodding off in his chair, twice, Jeremy joins her.

"Alright, bitches. I'm out," Cora says suddenly, jumping out of her chair a lot more gracefully than Stiles could ever manage.

"Where the hell are you going?" Derek asks, looking up from where he's been cleaning the roasting sticks.

"Unlike some people, I happen to have a date tonight," she says, popping her hip out and waggling her eyebrows at them. "Probably won't be back till tomorrow."

Derek and Stiles give twin groans. "I do not need to know that."

"Ew. That's my best friend you're talking about."

Cora rolls her eyes at them before picking up her blanket and disappearing inside. Leaving Stiles and Derek outside. Alone.

Is this completely awkward, or is it just Stiles?

He knows he looks nervous, the way his leg keeps bouncing up and down and how he keeps shifting in his seat, but he can't help it. He's not good with these types of situations. Not that it is a situation, he just...

"I should probably go check on the kids," he says suddenly, moving to get up. The hand on his arm stops him. Stops everything, really.

"Don't."

Stiles stares wide-eyed at the man before him, his eyes automatically dropping to his mouth before heading further down to the hand that's still on his arm. Derek jerks it back suddenly like he'd only now noticed. The spot already feels cold.

"I mean..." The blush is back and Stiles is very tempted to lick at it. So tempted, in fact, that he has to physically hold himself back by gripping the armrests. "You don't have to. They're probably passed out from all that sugar. You should stay...out here...if you'd like."

He's staring at the flames like he's considering jumping in and letting them consume him.

Stiles sits down. "Okay," he says softly.

They sit in silence for a few moments before Stiles can't help but laugh. Derek shoots him this look like he's crazy which only sends Stiles into another fit. When he finally calms, he has to wipe tears from his eyes.

"You okay there," Derek asks, amusement coating his voice.

"Oh, god." Stiles collapses back into his chair. Holy crap. There are so many stars out here. He should totally get away from town more often. Why did he even live in town. Yes, it was close to his father and easier to get the kids to and from school, but really everything in Beacon Hills was close. He should totally just move out to the woods.

"Sorry," he says at Derek's expectant glance. "It's been a long day. A long, weird day."

"Cora can be a bit...persistent," Derek offers. "And well...so can my mom. Sorry they roped you into this."

"I-what...no...that's...you're family is incredible," Stiles finally gets out. He doesn't feel like he's saying this right. "I had fun tonight. Like, god honest fun. And the kids...dude, Chase was fucking running around, playing with other children. In his dress. You don't understand how huge that is. It's...yeah. Thank you."

They settle back into silence, but this time it doesn't feel awkward. Stiles doesn't often get the chance to just sit and enjoy the moment. His life is just constantly moving from one item on his never-ending to-do list to the next. He's fine while in the moment, but when he finally gets a second to himself, it all just becomes so overwhelming.

But this? This he could get used to.

"When did you decide to foster?" Derek asks after they sit there quietly for a few minutes.

"I didn't," Stiles admits automatically. "I mean, well, I registered as a foster parent as soon as I was able to, but I didn't decide one day to just start taking kids in. It was more of a precautionary thing."

He glances over at Derek who's face is all scrunched up in confusion. He grins.

"I can see you trying to work this one out, you know," he says on a laugh. "It doesn't really makes sense to me either. It's just...one day I was a single dude, recently graduated from college with a useless degree, working off all the debt it'd chalked up. The next..."

He shrugs, remembering the day he'd met Ty like it was yesterday. "The next day, I walk into my dad's office to find a bit more chaos than normal. Ty's parent's had been in an accident, both of them only children. He had only one living relative, some great aunt that refused to take him because..."

His voice catches in his throat at the very thought of the words he can't bare to say. She'd said she didn't want to deal with some freak of a child her niece had refused to abort when she had the chance. Stiles's had been so close to finding her address in Ty's file and giving her a piece of his mind as well as his fist.

Derek waits patiently as he gathers himself, eyes soft in a way that tells Stiles that he knows. That he'd probably look the other way if he _had_ found that woman.

"I just...Ty was just sitting there in his carseat, completely unscathed, crying out for parents that would never return."

Stiles doesn't say it, but he'd thought of himself at that moment. He might've been older when he'd lost his mother, but he knew that complete sense of just...not being soothed by anything because the one thing he wanted was never coming back.

"It wasn't really something that needed to be decided on," he continues. "Ty needed someone who could not only take care of him, but love him with everything they had, and the moment I laid eyes on him, he stole my heart."

***

Derek hadn't meant to bring up such a rough subject, but Stiles so obviously loved his kids, he'd just wanted to understand how it all began. He wants to know everything, really, when it concerns Stiles. The thought should scare him more than it does.

Stiles is just...different. He's passionate with everything he does, the way he gives his children his full attention or laughs with his entire body or the way his face expresses each and every one of his thoughts clear as day.

Derek might be mildly attracted to the man in more than just the physical way. Which he was; it just didn't matter as much.

His mother had even commented on it a few days ago as they were washing the remnants of that night's dinner.

"You seem to mention this Stiles character quite a bit," she'd said, freezing Derek where he stood.

He thought he'd been subtle about, hadn't wanted anyone to get the wrong idea. It wasn't like that, not really. Stiles didn't even want anything he had to offer, if his denial of Derek's kiss was anything to go by, which Derek thought it was. It was a huge sign.

Talia took notice of his silence, reading him only as a mother could.

"Oh, honey. Is it really that serious?" She asked, turning her full attention on her son. "You really like this boy, don't you?"

He shrugged, feeling like he was fourteen all over again with his first crush. Really, that's all that it was. A silly crush that he could probably get over if he didn't have to see Stiles multiple times a week.

"You always did fall hard," Talia had told him, reminding him of a very similar conversation they'd had when he'd come home upset about his very first crush. "You may not fall fast, but you do fall hard."

This time, though, it seemed like it would be both.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nella's first game, some family love, some doubts, and loads of pizza.

"Stiles!"

"Mmm."

"I can't find my hat."

"Mmm...That's nice."

"Stiles!"

Stiles jerks awake, nearly braining himself on the cabinet above him. He can't remember falling asleep, but here he was, leaning over the counter top already fighting sleep again. Maybe just a few minutes.

"Stiles!"

He...huh...what?

Nella is behind him, fist on her cocked hip, looking at him like he's the most impossible person in the world. He honestly doesn't know what he's done to deserve this much attitude from the seven-year-old. He'd made sure to wash and iron her baseball uniform the night before - might of fallen asleep halfway through, but at least the iron hadn't been on. Yeah, who knows how long he'd been ironing before he realized he never plugged it in. Either way, the uniform was clean and she'd obviously managed to put it on while he took a quick nap on the counter, well, everything except her-

"Oh...hat, yes," Stiles says, sniffling a yawn. "Mmm...front door."

She gives him this exasperated sigh before taking off in that direction. God, he was not going to make it through today if he didn't get caffeine in his system, like, yesterday.

Oh! That's what he came into the kitchen for, you know, before he conked out on the counter top. He checks the coffee machine and finds a pot of water already heated, except...yup. He forgot to put the coffee grounds in. Awesome.

"Stiles! Ty just threw up!"

Yeah. If he made it through today, it'd be a miracle.

**

The parking lot is packed and Stiles has to park on the street and carry all of their gear plus a yucky-feeling Ty across the soccer field and up the hill. Nella calls for him the whole time, telling to him hurry up, and oh, god she was going to be late, Stiles come on.

When they eventually make it to the field, Stiles almost tears up, though he'd deny it till his dying breath. At the top of the completely filled bleachers stands everyone Stiles holds dear. When they see them approaching, the entire top row stands and let's out the most unnecessary cheer, waving pom-poms and sporting those stupid foam fingers for various professional sports teams and holding signs above their heads that read "Nella is #1" and "Hit it out of the park" and "That's Our Girl". Yeah, Stiles totally doesn't tear up or anything.

He glances down at Nella who's gone completely stock still beside him, her eyes wide at the display before them.

"Do you want to go say hi before hitting the field?"

She nods once then surprises Stiles by taking his hand. While she looks a bit overwhelmed, she seems to be in awe, completely blown away by the amount of people who came to support her. Stiles could kiss everyone on that top row right about now. She deserves to know how much she's loved, how much each and every person in their ragtag family adores her and her brother.

The kids are already on the field, so they say a few quick hellos before Nella has him walk her to the opening in the fence. He makes to leave her, but she just clenches his hand tighter, her eyes glued to the ground in front of her.

Stiles squats down next to her. "Hey, bud. What's wrong?"

No reply. O...k...

"Do you not want to play?" A shrug. "I thought you loved t-ball. You're getting so good at it, too."

Still nothing. Stiles sighs. He can feel people's eyes on him but he doesn't care, this isn't about them. It's about Nella.

"Hey," Stiles says, tilting her chin til he can see her eyes. "It's okay to be nervous. I used to get nervous before my games, too. You know how I got past it?"

She shakes her head, her eyes round.

"Well, I just pretended this wasn't a game. You like practice, right?" She nods eagerly. "Well, it's the same deal. You're still hitting the ball and running the bases and cheering on your teammates. And Chase, Ty, and I will be sitting in those stands, cheering as loud as we do at practice."

She grins, looking over his shoulder at the crowd of supporters she has today. "Okay," she says quietly.

"Okay." He slaps his hands on his knees before standing, a teensy bit lightheaded, but he brushes that off. "Now get out there and kick some butt."

She giggles and heads for the field, but as Stiles is turning towards the bleachers, she rushed to his side and tackles him in a hug. Stiles blinks, barely processing enough to hug her back before she's taking off to where her teammates are gathered in a circle around first base, stretching.

Stiles catches Derek's eye, a blush spreading across his cheeks before he pulls his eyes away and joins the others on the bleachers. As he shuffles past Lydia, she flashes him a knowing look which only makes him blush further. He blatantly ignores her as he takes Ty from his dad and settles him in his lap.

"Great view, huh?" Lydia asks with wink.

Stiles glares at her. There's no way she knows, but then again, it is Lydia. She's damn scary at picking up things no one else seems to.

He sees Scott's confused look just over her head. Stiles shrugs like he doesn't have a clue either. He can see Scott trying to work it out, like there's something just out of his reach, but then he's shrugging and giving Allison his full attention.

"You good, son?" the sheriff asks from his other side.

"Peachy," he says with a yawn, which earns him a Stilinski "bullshit" special. He sighs. "Just haven't gotten much sleep. I'm fine."

His dad doesn't seem to entirely believe him, not that Stiles blames him since he doesn't really believe it himself. He would be fine, though. One day. Hopefully. If he could ever just get a good night's sleep.

Chase had woken him up every night that week, sometimes more than once, with a nightmare or by wetting his bed. I mean, he was kind of glad Chase was finally feeling comfortable enough to wake him up and even ask to spend the rest of his night in Stiles' bed. But, really, he was just so fucking tired. Tired of getting up every night to put sheets in the wash, tired of having to hold the five-year-old through the tears he tried so hard to hold back, tired of not being able to do damn thing to fix it because he had no clue as to what was causing Chase's nightmares to begin with.

He'd figure it out, though. He always did. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

The national anthem begins playing over the loud speakers just then, and Stiles stands with everyone else.

"I'm fine," he says again. He's not sure who he's trying convince more, his father or himself.

**

The roar coming from the crowd reminds Derek of his brief time on the field in college. This is definitely not college ball. This is 5 to 8 year olds hitting stationary balls off a stand, accidentally running the wrong direction around the diamond, and picking their noses or giggling with friends when they should be going after the ball. There really shouldn't be a reason for the crowd to be making noise at all.

Really, it's all Stiles Stilinski's fault, or possibly Nella's, but he's going to choose to blame the grown man who's currently waving his hands around like a maniac and screaming himself hoarse rather than his daughter who's just stepped up to the plate. She shyly waves at her family, sending them all into another cheer which makes her blush furiously.

Yeah. He definitely blames Stiles.

They lose 3 to 5, but Derek is proud of how well his kids take it, lining up to shake the other team's hands good naturally. They end with a standard cheer of "go team", then the kids are running off the field towards their waiting families.

The only one hanging back is Nella, and Derek would've missed her if he hadn't forgotten his bag in their makeshift dugout. She's sitting on the bench, her eyes on her hands in her lap.

"Hey, what's wrong," he asks, lowering himself into the spot beside her.

She shrugs, her eyes never leaving her twisting hands.

Derek can see Stiles on the other side of the field, face scrunched up in concern. He looks like he wants to interfere, but he stays where he is, allowing Nella some time.

"Everyone's probably waiting on you to go celebrate," he says softly, trying a new approach. "They're real proud of you, you know."

"Why?" Nella mumbles so quietly, Derek almost misses it.

Derek is most definitely out of his league here. Entertain kids for an hour or so, sure, piece of cake. Have a heart-to-heart with a kid who was obviously devastated after her first game. No clue.

"You don't have to win for them to be proud of you. They're proud because you were brave enough to play in the first place." She glances up at him at that, obviously doubting his words.

He sighs. "Look, do you see how many people came out to see you play?" He points towards the crowd of fifteen or so people waiting for her just past the fence, most of them watching their little exchange. "They wanted to see you have fun today, win or loose. They wanted to cheer you on as you did something you loved. Did you have fun?" She nods. "Then that's all that matters."

She looks thoughtfully at him then before flashing him a smile, her sour mood already dissipating. Before Derek can react, she's throwing her short arms around him as best she can then is running off across the field towards her family and friends. Derek smiles after her for a moment before following, albiet a bit slower. Apparently he can handle heart-to-hearts. Good to know.

His parents and Laura's family are waiting with the the "Stilinski Plus" bunch as he approaches. They typically go out to celebrate after each game, and Derek is pleasantly surprised to find Laura has invited the whole crew to join them.

They all agree on the family-owned pizza shop not too far down the road, everyone breaking off to their own vehicles.

"So, I'm curious," Stiles says as Derek walks him and the kids back to his car. Stiles is carrying a sleepy Ty in his arms, Derek loaded down with the millions of bags Stiles seemed to carry everywhere, and the kids are running ahead playing their own made up version of tag.

Derek raises an eyebrow to Stiles' unfinished question.

"What were you and Nella talking about back there?"

Derek's step falters. He hopes Stiles isn't upset. He hadn't meant to overstep any bounds, just couldn't stand to see Nella so...down.

"I, um..." He clears his throat. "She was just upset about losing the game. She didn't want to disappoint you all."

Stiles stops in his tracks. Shit. He should've just kept his mouth shut. He was always doing this. Ruining things.

"And uh, what did you tell her?" Derek can't see Stiles' face, but his voice is uncertain, shaky, like he's afraid of Derek's answer.

"I told her that there's no way any one of the people who came out to support her would be disappointed in her."

Stiles turns then, his eyes wide and uncertain. He looks like he wants to say something, but can't find the words. Luckily, he doesn't have to as the kids run by and Nella tags Derek, refusing to allow him to not play. Derek flashes Stiles a grin before taking off after the kids, bags and all.

When they get to the car, both Nella and Chase plead for Derek to ride with them in the van, even if the restaurant is less than five minutes away. He looks uncertainly at Stiles who just shrugs and says he's welcome to the ride.

Which is how he finds himself in the passenger seat of the van, belting along to the Frozen soundtrack, much to Stiles' obvious amusement.

***

Stiles wants to believe that the feelings he has for Derek, whatever they may be, are only temporary. He doesn't have the luxury of casual relationships any longer. Whoever, if ever, Stiles decides to date, they're essentially dating his kids, in a way less weird way than how Stiles manages to make that sound. Whatever.

The thing is, the kids love Derek already. Like, a lot. To the point where he'd be concerned if he weren't so damn happy to see them happy.

But Derek really isn't helping matters. What with the way he listens intently as Nella chatters on and on about her class or baseball or her favorite movies. Or the way he cuts Chase's pizza into manageable sizes when he asks, adding a quick "please" when he sees Stiles looking pointedly at him. Or the way he just seems to fit in so easily with his friends, already agreeing to help Scott with some DIYs around the house he'd been putting off, what with his new work schedule (not that he'd ever been handy with that sort of thing), and discussing current baseball stats with the sheriff. He's making it damn near impossible to not have some sort of feelings for the guy.

And Stiles...Stiles just can't afford to go there. Not that he remembers the exact reason why he can't go there, but he can't. He just can't.

He can, though, allow Derek to promise Nella that he'll start giving her extra baseball lessons, starting tomorrow, at her request.

He can allow himself to fall into easy banter with Derek's sister and learn exactly what it is Logan does in the financial sector of his work.

He can even allow Derek to walk them out and help him buckle the kids into their seats then hold Stiles' door open for him, shutting it when Stiles is safely behind the wheel then walking away only glancing back once to give Stiles a small smile and a wave.

Yeah. Stiles is so fucked.


	8. Chapter Eight

This is such a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Possibly the worst idea Derek has ever had. But there's really nothing he can do because the door to the Stilinski household is suddenly being opened. Nella peaks her head around the door then let's out an ear-piercing shriek, already pulling him inside.

"Nella, what did I say about-" a flustered Stiles appears at the top of the stairs, stopping mid-step and mid-sentence when he sees Derek.

And the flowers he's carrying.

Derek blushes when he sees Stiles' eyes connect with the bouquet of multi-colored flowers in his hands. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

"You brought flowers," Stiles says finally, his voice all soft and a small smile spreading across his face.

"I, um..."

A loud, desperate cry sounds from upstairs and Stiles sighs, eyes flickering to somewhere over his shoulder. He's clearly exhausted, even more than he'd been the day before at the game, and Derek had expected him to suddenly pass out then.

"I'll, um, be down in a minute," Stiles says, turning back the way he'd come. Derek is pretty sure he isn't supposed to hear the "maybe" Stiles mumbles under his breath.

"What are those for?"

Derek glances down to find Chase staring at the flowers in his hand with wide eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side. He has his Halloween costume on but has chosen to forgo the wig, instead donning a super sparkly crown.

"Do you like them?" He asks, squatting down to be at eye level with him. Chase quickly nods his head. "Then they're yours."

His eyes grow impossibly large as he takes the proffered flowers and craddles them in his arms like one would a child. Derek grins.

"Do you want to help me put them in water?"

When he receives an eager nod, he leads them into the kitchen at the back of the townhouse and begins rummaging around the cabinets for a vase. He feels a bit odd going through someone else's things, especially since it's the first time he's been here, but Chase is giving him these looks like if Derek doesn't hurry up and find something soon, the flowers will die.

"What are you doing?" Nella asks, suddenly appearing at his feet, now dressed entirely in her little league uniform, cleats on the wrong feet.

"I'm looking for something to put flowers in," he explains as he scans the rest of what he can see of the house like a vase will just suddenly appear.

"Stiles doesn't have that," Nella says matter-of-factly. She tilts her head to the side and gives him this "duh" look that reminds him so much of Cora, he almost bursts out laughing.

"He doesn't does he?" She shakes her head. "Hmm. Then I guess we'll have to get creative."

They end up using one of the kids buckets that Chase finds in the sandbox out back, cutting the stems short so the flowers don't topple out. Nella declares that it needs a little something extra, so they pull some weeds from the back yard and stick them in along side the bouquet he'd had specially made since all the other arrangements felt too impersonal, and if Derek was going to awkwardly bring over flowers on a not-date, he was going to do it right. It seems like he chose correctly because not only were the kids overjoyed at helping arrange the flowers, but the look on Stiles' face when he'd saw them...yeah, he chose right.

Stiles still isn't back from dealing with Ty who, Nella tells him, has been throwing up all night and they aren't allowed to go into Stiles' room where he's core...court...where he's not allowed to touch anyone, so the sick doesn't spread. So once they get the flowers set, all three of them go outside so Derek can toss the ball around with Nella, which happened to be the reason he was there in the first place.

He kind of looses track of time between helping Nella use her mitt properly and teaching her how to throw more accurately which she's already scary good at and catching Chase as he goes down the slide, yelling for Derek to "catch him" every time, even if Derek's already at the base of the slide. So when Stiles suddenly appears at the sliding glass door, he's surprised to hear him tell the kids to wash up for dinner.

Nella moans but does as she's told and Chase follows behind after one more slide.

He finds Stiles setting the table when he comes in after putting away his and Nella's baseball gear. There's something in the oven that's giving off this mouth-watering aroma, but he hadn't really intended to stay as long as he already has and Stiles isn't inviting him to stay.

"I should probably-"

"Melissa made this incredible casserole," Stiles says at the same time. When he turns to face Derek, his cheeks are beautifully rosy and he's giving him this guilty little smirk. His hair is also wet like he'd just showered, and Derek can't help the deep inhale he takes. He catches the hint of something...earthy that he can't seem to place but knows he's smelled before.

"She's always making us food like she still doesn't believe I know how to cook even though I help her with Thanksgiving dinner every year. Really, if she should help anyone, it should be Scott. He's completely useless when it comes to cooking." He pauses, seeming to just realize he's been ranting. "Anyways, it's the least I can do, you know, for everything."

Derek frowns. "You don't have to pay me back, Stiles."

"I know." He blushes further. "I just...you should stay. For dinner. If you want, I mean."

Derek stares at him for a moment longer, trying to decipher his invitation. He doesn't want Stiles to treat him like some hired help or take pity on him. He likes his kids, that's why he'd agreed to come today. Nella is so passionate about baseball and he already knows he can't deny her a thing. He doesn't have to be...friends with Stiles, though he'd really love to, but he wouldn't be able to stand being treated like a stranger.

But the way Stiles is looking at him...maybe it's Derek's imagination, but Stiles doesn't look like he wants to be strangers or even "just friends", either. God, does he hope it isn't his imagination.

The kids come racing down the stairs just then and Derek has to physically drag his eyes from Stiles' to go and wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

"Can Derek stay for dinner?" Nella asks Stiles a bit breathlessly.

"You'll have to ask him," he says, flashing Derek a smirk like he knows Derek already has a weakness for the hyperactive seven-year-old. Which he totally does.

"Derek, please? Can you please stay for dinner?" she asks, turning the full force of her pleading eyes on him. He doesn't know how anyone could ever deny her anything. He's so weak.

"I'd love to," he says honestly.

***

Derek is an alien sent from the future to test the resilience of the human heart in this advanced cruel, cruel form of torture, Stiles' sleep-deprived brain decides halfway through dinner. It's the only explanation, if you think about it. There's no other reason Stiles should have to sit through a dinner across from a man who's gaze could make his heart falter, while he holds a god-honest conversation with his kids over which Chrystal Gem is the best.

And Stiles's couldn't do a damn thing about it. That was the torture. He couldn't let himself hope for something more, couldn't give in to the temptation of feeling Derek's lips on his, of tucking the kids in together every night, of waking up in his arms every morning. Something that good just didn't exist. Not in Stiles' world.

Stiles broke things. That's what he was good at. He's ruined every one of his four relationships, had almost lost one of his best friends in the process and it'd only been at Scott's persistence that they were still talking today. It was a miracle that the state even approved him to be an acceptable father to these three wonderful blessings. He couldn't chance hurting them with a potentially horrible break up, they didn't deserve that. And Stiles...well, Stiles didn't know if he'd be able to survive the heart break, either. It would just be easier on them all if he never chanced it to begin with.

Easier, right.

When they finish their dinner, Stiles wrangles the kids upstairs to start on their nighttime routine before he tackles the mess of dishes downstairs. He descends the stairs, absentmindedly picking up toys and clothes that had been strewn about over the last few days, and makes his way to the kitchen, where...where Derek has already cleared the table and is now loading the dishwasher.

"You don't have to do that," Stiles says. "You're our guest."

Derek shrugs without pausing the task. "I don't mind."

Yeah, but Stiles does. Kind of. It's far too domestic for his sleep addled brain to process and all he wants to do is slip in behind Derek, wrap his arms around him and kiss the little bit of shoulder that's peaking out from under Derek's shirt.

Derek closes the dishwasher and hits start then turns to face Stiles, leaning back against the counter.

"How are the kids?" he asks, but before Stiles can even think to reply, the little monsters in question come barreling down the stairs, barely slowing as they enter the kitchen.

"Can Derek please tuck us in?" Nella pleads, practically hanging from Stiles' arm.

"He has to read me a story," Chase adds, looking far too frantic at the prospect of Derek leaving. And when he turns those wide, pleading eyes on Derek, Stiles can see the exact moment Derek concedes because he practically melts away from the counter to gather Chase into his arms, and now it's Stiles' turn to liquefy into a puddle of feelings because Chase just let's him - wrapping his little arms around his neck - and he doesn't let anyone touch him outside of their little ragtag family.

"Of course I'll read to you," Derek says, sparing a brief glance at Stiles who offers a small smile. "Do you already have a book in mind?"

Chase nods eagerly. Stiles knows the exact book Chase has in mind considering he's been reading every night for the last week or so. He's practically got the thing memorized.

"Can you carry me too?" Nella asks suddenly, her arms raised. Derek smiles before picking her up easily and carrying them both towards the stairs.

Not even a grunt, Stiles thinks petulantly, practically glaring at Derek's broad back like it'd personally offended him. Unbelievable.

He follows them upstairs, suddenly a bit less peeved with the nice view ahead of him, and Derek takes the kids into their room whiles Stiles peaks in on Ty. He's still sleeping, curls plastered against his head with the fever that had already broken. Stiles had been stupid to think his puking before the game yesterday had been a fluke, possibly food poisoning. While he'd seemed okay, if a bit sleepy, throughout the game and at the pizza parlor, he'd been up all night throwing up and shivering through his fever, Stiles by his side the entire time. He just hopes the other two kids didn't have to suffer through the same illness because of Stiles' mistake.

He runs a rag under cold water in the bathroom sink before placing it back on Ty's forehead, dropping a kiss to his cheek before joins the others.

The scene he comes upon has him pausing at the door, fearful of breaking the precious moment that his heart was not prepared to deal with tonight. Derek is stretched out awkwardly across the bottom bunk, his legs bent at an awkward angle to allow for his size, his head propped up on the headboard, and the kids are snuggled up on either side of him, their heads resting on his chest to get a good view of the book Derek is holding up. Chase has one of his hands wrapped around Derek's wrist like he's afraid Derek will suddenly put the book down and leave. And Stiles...Stiles just stands at the door and let's the soothing sound of Derek's voice wash over him as he reads From Wolf to Woof outloud, just as he'd done at the library the week before. Chase has been obsessed with the book since, forcing Stiles to check out other children's books about wolves whenever they visited the library, but still preferring the original.

By the time Derek closes the book with a soft "the end", the kids have fallen asleep on his chest, and Stiles isn't in much better condition, leaning heavily against the door jam with droopy eyes. He watches with a small smile as Derek untangled himself from the kids as gently as he can before staring down at them with something close to awe.

"Leave them," Stiles whispers. "They'll be fine in the bed together for one night."

Derek nods, watching them for a moment longer like he just can't bear to tear his eyes away (Stiles knows the feeling, had stayed up the first few nights after their arrival to just watch them in wonderment), before he follows Stiles from the room and down the stairs.

"Thank you," Derek says as they reach the front door. He picks up his coat and sports bag but doesn't make to leave.

Stiles frowns at him in confusion. "For what? I should be the one thanking you."

Derek just shakes his head like Stiles is being purposely obtuse, but he doesn't explain further. Instead, he takes a step towards Stiles and...and stops.

"I should go," he says, looking like that is the absolute last thing he wants to do. His eyes flicker down to Stiles' lips for a moment before meeting Stiles' own eyes.

Before Stiles knows what he's doing and can convince himself out of it, he's rising onto his toes and brushing his lips ever so softly against the corner of Derek's mouth. He pulls back the next second, a blush already spreading like wildfire across his face. Derek is staring at him with wide eyes, absolutely still.

"Thank you," Stiles mumbles, his voice suddenly hoarse. "For everything."

Derek nods stiffly before turning, opening the door, and leaving Stiles alone, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it silly to already have an idea of a sequel at this point? Am I in too over my head here?


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I almost forgot to post this chapter? Like I tried to post chapter ten? How dare I!
> 
> Let's just enjoy the angst and sweetness that is this chapter.

The next day Stiles takes the kids out of school early to make their appointment with the pediatrician, followed by a visit with the child psychiatrist their social worker had suggested at their last meeting. The kids seem to be doing so much better than they were when they first arrived - not only with Stiles but with the rest of their family - but if Stiles knew anything it was that even kids knew how to hide their feelings behind a false smile, just like he had mastered when his mother past away not too long after his eighth birthday. He wants them to grow up knowing that it's perfectly alright to not feel 100% every day and that he or someone a bit more qualified would be there to listen if they ever needed it.

On Tuesday, Derek isn't at little league, which is just as well since Ty has a pretty nasty fit and Stiles has to take them all home early when it doesn't look like he'll be calming down anytime soon.

Wednesday, Stiles is late picking the kids up from school after rushing to finish a research project for a new client. He finds them sitting outside with Nella's teacher who gives Stiles a nasty side-eye but thankfully doesn't say anything. Nella is already rambling on about some talent show before he even gets them in the car.

"Stiles," she says in exasperation as he buckles Chase into his seat and hands Ty his elephant he'd just dropped.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear me?"

He looks up at her then, finding her staring at him like it was of utmost importance that he gave her all of his attention, so he does.

"Tell me again."

She sighs before taking a deep breath and says, "Mary Elizabeth Jennings was telling everyone at lunch today that she was going to be in the school talent show and that no body else should even enter because her mom has been buying her singing lessons for, like, a year now and the guy who teaches her is famous or something, and he says she's really good so Mary Elizabeth says she doesn't even have to try to win."

Stiles stares at her, barely even processing half the words that tumble out of her mouth.

"Stiles!" she cries, looking completely torn.

"I...what? I don't understand."

"I have to enter the talent show. I just have to."

"Okay." He's missing something. He doesn't see the problem here. "We'll enter you in the show."

She looks at him like he's the most obtuse person on the planet. "But I don't have a talent."

Oh. OH. Shit. He is not prepared for this.

"Sure you do," he says automatically, buying time to think, and with the look Nella is giving him, he's being pretty obvious about it too. "Baseball! You are great at baseball."

She rolls her eyes. "That's not a talent, Stiles."

He frowns. Sure it is. If she knew how much professional athletes were paid, she'd be changing her tune. But he doesn't have time for this right now. He has to get them home because Ty missed his afternoon nap and was now purposely throwing his toy whenever Stiles handed it to him which was a pretty good sign that he was almost to his breaking point, and Stiles had to get dinner started because they had just finished the last of Melissa's meals last night and while Stiles likes to pretend to be put out every time she brings one over, he actually really appreciates it especially at moments like these, and-

"We'll figure something out when we get home," he tells her, already climbing his way to his seat. "I promise."

She looks entirely doubtful of his words, but thankfully doesn't argue. And it's not like Stiles actually waits until they're home to start brainstorming. He has six decent ideas and two back ups by the time they pull into the driveway. Which is actually half occupied by a very sexy Camaro Stiles would know anywhere.

"Derek, hi," he says as he shuts off the engine and climbs out. "What are you doing here?"

Derek pushes away from the hood where he'd been leaning and runs a hand through his hair which warms Stiles' gut in a way he doesn't want to decipher. He can't see Derek's eyes behind the dark sunglasses he's sporting, but he's pretty sure he'd find uncertainty written all over his face. It's adorable.

"I, um...I just got back into town and I missed practice yesterday, so...I thought I'd make it up to Nella, but I didn't have your number, so..."

Stiles doesn't say anything, doesn't know what he could say. He's...

"Sorry. This is weird," Derek says, releasing a nervous huff of breath. "I should go."

"No," Stiles says, surprising them both. "I mean, you can stay, if you want. Nella's..."

Already out the car and storming into the house. Great. Just great.

He turns back to Derek and gives him a sheepish look. "Apparently they're having some sort of talent show at school and her arch nemesis has been bragging about her automatic win or whatever." He pulls Ty from his seat who latches around Stiles' neck in a sleepy embrace. "I'm sure she'd love to practice, though. Might get her mind off it."

When Chase finally manages to release himself from his carseat and climbs out of the van, Stiles gathers the forgotten backpacks plus his two bags he always has on him before glaring at the door like it'll close itself. He wishes. His van's not that cool.

Derek takes the bags from his hands before he can say anything, though, then slides the door shut and follows Chase into the house where he left the door wide open. Again. It takes a moment for Stiles' brain to catch up before he locks the car and goes inside.

"Where should I..." Derek asks, gesturing with the bags.

Stiles waves him off and places Ty in his playpen, which he thankfully doesn't fight since it generally takes twice as long to cook dinner with a toddler on your hip, as Stiles would know.

"Anywhere's fine," he says over his shoulder already pulling the fridge door open. "Thank you."

Derek joins him on the other side of the bar after hanging the bags on the wall mount by the door that Stiles never actually uses. He totally should, since he's constantly losing things, but...effort.

"Need any help?" Derek asks.

"Oh, no. I'm fine." How is there already so little in the fridge. He just went shopping on Monday, although now that he thinks about it, they really only ran in and out, grabbing only the necessities. Shoot. "I should, um...let me go check on Nella."

"I'll go, you have your hands full, here," Derek says as he pushes away from the counter. Stiles just stares at him. Who the hell is this guy and what did he do to deserve him because Stiles would gladly do whatever it was over and over again for the rest of his life. Not that he means...whatever.

***

Derek might be overstepping his bounds by bossing Stiles around in his own damn house, but he can't help it. He just looks...tired, so tired and overwhelmed and...lost, and Derek just feels the need to do something to help. That is why he showed up unannounced, in a way...to help.

So he leaves Stiles in the kitchen to find something to make out of the sparse items he has in the fridge (Derek couldn't help but notice, and he might be considering how he could casually offer to pay for takeout or something, though everything he thinks of seems obvious and Stiles is not the type to accept charity - not that that's what he's offering), and heads to the kids' room at the top of the stairs. The door is ajar, but he knocks anyways, peaking his head in.

Chase is playing with some sort of plastic monster at the doll house that's stationed under the window and he barely glances up before returning to his game. He finds Nella lying on her stomach on Chase's bed, hand moving furiously over the notebook she has laid out in front of her.

"Hey, kid," Derek says, lowering himself onto the mattress next to her with a bit of difficulty. Damn bunk beds. "What are you working on."

She shrugs without looking up.

"I heard that you decided to join the talent show today," he tries again, earning a loud sigh. He can't help but chuckle. "That good, huh?"

She sits up suddenly, spinning to face him and Derek's heart lurches at the tears in her eyes.

"Stiles says we'll find a talent for me, but I don't have any," she says with a sob.

Chase turns his wide eyes on them, obviously concerned for his sister. He silently drops his toys, grabs the box of tissues that is sitting on the window sill, and awkwardly climbs into Derek's lap - nearly kneeing him in the process -, holding out the tissues until Nella takes one. Then he spins and offers the box to Derek who shakes his head, smiling fondly as the boy settles back against his chest, his eyes focused on his sister and tissues at the ready.

"Nella, honey, you have many talents," he says, softly, trying to get her attention. When she blinks up at him, he continues. "It might not be obvious right now, but it's just a matter of picking the right one. I could list off ten talents of yours right now, easily."

She looks at him skeptically but waits silently for him to continue.

"Let's see...one, your are very talented at baseball," he begins. "Two, you are very good at helping your brothers. Three, you make friends easily. Four, you make other people feel good when they are sad or upset. Five, you have very interesting stories. Six-"

"Those aren't talents," she says, though Derek is happy to note her tears have dried up and she's giving him that face that could rival Cora, so she obviously can't be that upset.

"Six," he repeats, sticking his tongue out at her which she giggles at as she moves to lean against him, pulling his arm around her, herself.

"Six," he says a bit softer as it catches in his throat, "you are one of the most creative people I've had the pleasure to meet. Seven, you make the finest mudpies I have ever tasted." Both she and Chase giggle and she tickles him, making him squirm in Derek's lap and elbow him in the ribs. "Eight, you are incredibly bright and are learning new things everyday. Nine, you are amazing at testing Stiles' patience, which I think is a talent you've learn from him. And ten...you are an incredible, beautiful, talented, wonderful human being and if people can't see that, then they are idiots because that means they are missing out on getting to know you."

Nella turns suddenly, bumping her head against his chin and probably squeezing her brother between them as she hugs him tightly around the neck. He wraps a hand around her back and pulls her in closer.

He'd be lying if he said that he could ever walk away from these kids. He'd fallen for them and their father the moment he laid eyes on them. And three weeks in, he was already so wonderfully, irreversibly, perilously lost.

***

Stiles pushes away from the wall next to the door and quietly makes his way back down the stairs. Once in the kitchen he let's out the breath he'd been holding and it comes out as more of a sob than anything. He's surprised when the tears begin to fall, can't explain why he's crying or what, exactly, he was feeling. It all just feels like...too much.

He shouldn't be falling this quickly for Derek, and truly, he made it easy to do so. He was incredible with the kids and actually seemed to genuinely enjoy their company (he'd come over to check on Nella after missing one practice, for fucks sake). And the way he looked at Stiles, well, it sent his heart racing in ways he hadn't felt in...he actually can't remember ever feeling that way. It wasn't even him, entirely. His family had welcomed Stiles' makeshift family with open arms and even Scott and Allison and Lydia seemed to quickly incorporate Derek into they're group of friends without a second thought. It seemed like everyone was on board with the idea of them dating...everyone but Stiles.

It wasn't like he wasn't attracted to the man or that he couldn't imagine a life with him, he could. God, could he.

He just had to be the reasonable one here. Really, how likely was it that Derek was just as attracted to him as Stiles was to Derek. He was gorgeous and adorable and just damn fuckable, honestly. And Stiles was...not. He couldn't compare, and usually he was okay with it, but one day, Derek was bound to get bored, bound to bore of his children, and he would leave. Then where would Stiles be? In the same damn place, but this time with a broken heart and some extremely disappointed kids.

No. He couldn't do this. He's just have to try harder to not let Derek's...everything effect him. Easy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...would anyone be interested in knowing the playlist I made while writing this fic? I mean, I tend to listen to one song one repeat either through a scene or even the whole chapter. Let me know, though!
> 
> Thanks for keeping up with this fic! You're amazing.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *miscarriage mentioned

"I still don't understand why I can't know," Stiles says, full on pouting by now. It just isn't fair.

"Because, she wants it to be a surprise," Scott answers, nudging him playful from his spot next to him.

They were sitting in the elementary school auditorium in these god-awful fold out chairs, the big fans overhead doing nothing for the heat except circling the stale air. Stiles is miserable. Had been miserable since he'd dropped Nella at the school's cafeteria where all the kids in the talent show were to gather, then joined the rest of the families in the gym where someone had set up a stage for the night. And he wasn't any less miserable as the rest of their group started to arrive.

Stiles slumps down in his incredibly uncomfortable seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, but why do you guys get to know what she's doing and I don't," he practically whines. It's totally not fair.

Lydia sighs from her spot on the other side of Allison who's entertaining Ty on her knees.

"It's your birthday present from her," Allison says gently, eyes never leaving the giggling Ty in her lap. "She just wanted to try out her performance on us before she did it in front of a crowd."

"Yeah, dude, you should've seen how excited she was," Scott adds in his overly perky way, trying desperately to cheer his best friend up. "She's awesome, too. I didn't even know she could-"

He stops suddenly when Allison places a hand on his arm and he shoots her a sheepish grin. He's horrible at keeping secrets, and Stiles was kind of planning on that. Damn you, Allison.

He turns to Chase who's using the chair next to him as a coloring station. "You know what Nella's up to, don't you?" He leans over and lowers his voice. "You can tell me, I promise I won't tell anyone."

Chase just raises an eyebrow like he can tell how desperate Stiles is becoming, before returning to the coloring book in front of him. Damn.

"Oh my god, Stiles, leave the kid alone," Lydia says with one of her patented eye rolls. "There's only ten minutes left before the show starts, you'll find out soon enough."

"It'll be worth it," Allison adds, smiling at him fondly.

It better be, he think grumpily. He's not so good with surprises - shocking, right? - but for Nella, yeah, he can wait another ten minutes in this cruel form of torture.

He's mildly distracted when the rest of the group trickles in, quickly joined by Derek and his family who mingle in with their bunch. Erica and Boyd arrive last which is another surprise for Stiles. He knew they were busy with a new installment in their studio down in LA and hadn't wanted to make them feel guilty for missing Nella's performance, so he hadn't mentioned it to them. The looks he receives from both Allison and Lydia, though, nearly has him throwing his arms around them both and showing them his thanks. He'll get them later.

Derek ends up a seat away because Chase wanted him to sit next to him and help him color. They share a glance over the top of the five-year-olds head, but don't say anything more than a quick hello, and when Stiles faces forward again, he can feel Scott's eyes on his face but pointedly ignores him.

Thankfully, it's not much longer until the lights dim and the drama teacher walks on stage, checking the mic before beginning her introduction speech.

Nella is one of the last kids to perform since her last name begins with a V and they're going by alphabetical order, according to the pamphlet they'd been handed at the door. They sit through many vocal performances that aren't entirely...okay, yeah, they're kind of painful, until this one girl (the ever-hated Mary Elizabeth Jennings, as she's introduced) gets up on stage to stun the audience with an old show tune number, and Stiles can now understand why Nella had been so freaked out. The girl is good, not that he'd ever vote for her, especially since he has his own little rockstar who's about to knock one out of the park. Not that Stiles has even the slightest clue as to what she'll be performing, but that doesn't really matter since she'll be incredible either way. Not that he's biased or anything.

As soon as Nella DOES climb up on stage, there's a deafening roar from their two rows of support which earns them some nasty glares from the people sitting close to them, but Stiles doesn't care because his little girl is looking at them with the brightest shy, little smile as she makes her way to the microphone at center stage. They eventually settle and Stiles is too eager to even think enough to take out his camera, but he knows Jeremy is in the back filming the whole thing, so he really doesn't care.

Nella clears her throat and the sound echoes around the room. She looks absolutely terrified and she seems to be staring at nothing, completely frozen.

"You got it, Nels," Stiles shouts. She catches his eye and smiles before taking a big breath and-

"Soy muy especial," she begins in perfect Spanish, the words rolling off her tongue in a way that couldn't have been practiced in only two days.

She...that...he...what?

Nella spoke Spanish. Nella spoke Spanish flawlessly. How did he not know this? He knew her parents had been Mexican from the extremely light file the social worker had had on the kids, and their last name was Velasquez, but that didn't mean they'd ever been taught Spanish and neither of them ever gave him any clues, and-

"'I am very special'," Derek whispers as he leans over, his face suddenly right next to Stiles' ear.

Stiles blinks at him. What?

"He estado desde la principio," Nella continues on the stage. "Antes de que me sostuvo en sus brazos, mi familia me sostuvo en sus corazones."

"'I have been from the start'," Derek says quietly. Oh. OH! "'Before they held me in their arms, my family held me in their hearts'."

Stiles stares wide-eyed at the girl before them, the tears falling before he even has a chance to stop them. He doesn't care. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, has ever heard. The whole world could mock him for all he cares because his little girl is preforming a poem about adoption in the language her birth family had raised her with. This was...priceless. Absolutely priceless.

"And like a single drop of rain," Derek says in the same soft tone so that Stiles can still hear Nella, "that on still waters fall, my life and love will ripples make, and touch the lives of all. So read this precious story as step by step I grow. I am a blessing and a gift as each page here will show."

Nella let's out a shaky breath before taking a small step away from the mic. The audience is absolutely silent until someone begins clapping, breaking everyone out of their shock. Their group goes crazy, everyone standing a cheering, but Stiles can't even attempt to stand, feeling if he tried, his knees would give out on him. He can't even cheer properly. He just sits in his chair, clapping and crying and feeling like the dorkiest dad in the world, but fuck if he cares.

Nella gives a little bow and quickly races off stage to join the others in the first row. The crowd still hasn't settled down as the drama teacher returns to the stage.

Stiles turns to Derek, tears still falling down his face. "Thank you," he mouths, unable to get his throat to work properly to say the words aloud.

Derek stares at him, shallows, then nods. They stay there like that, eyes connected over Chase's head, before Stiles is torn away by Scott who's shaking him by his shoulders in excitement. Stiles is happy to find he isn't the only one crying, but Scott is a sob for these kinds of things and Allison is extremely hormonal in her late stage of pregnancy (Stiles had actually seen her cry at a sponge earlier that week. A sponge), so really, it isn't saying much.

Stiles can barely manage to sit still through the last three contestants. It might be totally rude, but he can't seem to care. His kid had given the most stunning performance (for his birthday, no less) and all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and never let go. But no, there are three other families who've been waiting all night to watch their kids perform, then they have to wait as the judges deliberate, which drives Stiles absolutely nuts.

Finally, finally the four judges join the drama teacher on stage, holding three medals. Stiles swears to god, if they try to drag this out to be more dramatic, he's going to jump on stage and freaking just award the kids himself.

A hand suddenly lands on Stiles' shoulder, squeezing lightly, and he glances over to the person attached to it. Derek's eyes may be on the stage, but he has a small smile playing on his lips, like he just knows how restless Stiles is getting and is offering the touch to ground him. How does he do that?

Thankfully the judges hand out the awards as swiftly as possible. Third places goes to some kid who'd done a half-decent magic trick, second goes to Mary Elizabeth Jennings, of course (and Stiles may or may not internally cheer at the look of disappointment she's sporting from receiving second place). While he may not have actually expected her to win, Stiles is a bit disappointed when first goes to a girl who'd done a really incredible juggling act on a unicycle, which really, yeah, she totally deserves it. Except...

Except one of the judges is taking the microphone and is explaining that they had to come up with the final award on the spot because the last winner had been so spectacular, they needed to create a new category. And last but most definitely not least, the award for most heartwarming performance goes to Nella Jean Velasquez, sending their group once again into a frenzy.

Before he knows it, the kids are being released, sending the room into absolute chaos, and Talia is inviting everyone to an after-party at her house. Nella somehow makes it through the mess that is the auditorium and has to pass through every single member of their group who individually offer their congratulations, before she's finally jumping into his arms.

"Did you like it?" she says, her mouth next to his ear to be heard over all the noise.

Stiles nods, unable to find the words.

She pulls back and her face suddenly drops. "You're crying. Why are you crying?"

Stiles let's out a wet laugh before pulling her in once more. "They're happy tears," he tells her. "I am so freaking proud of you, kiddo. Thank you so, so much. That was the most amazing gift anyone has ever given me."

She holds onto him tighter, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, and whispers, "I love you." Which totally sends Stiles into a fresh round of tears.

When she finally releases him, Stiles holds on for a bit longer until she laughs out a "Stiles!" and he eventually let's her go. She then shyly goes up to Derek and hugs him and whispers something in his ear that makes him smile down at her and tickle her softly and...

God damn you emotions! Stiles mentally curses. Always getting in the way.

***

"Erica Reyes!" Stiles shouts as he comes upon one of his most cherished friends, sitting on the porch swing on the front half of the Hales' giant wraparound deck. He'd been looking for her for what felt like forever, and would've thought she'd decided not to come to their little get together if Boyd hadn't been out back with the rest of their crazy crew. "The hell are you doing out here all by...Oh my god! Is that a joint?"

"Yeah," she says, pushing off the ground with her foot and sending the swing into motion. "You want some?"

"Do I...no, Erica, I do not want your illicit drugs. I'm the Sheriff's son, you know, the officer that's, like, right behind the house. What the hell?"

Except, yeah, he totally would if he were still back in college and didn't have kids to get home at some point that night and if, you know, his dad wasn't just around the corner.

She rolls her eyes like she couldn't give a fuck if his dad found or possibly even arrested her, which he doubts his dad actually would. Not that he really expects her to be of entirely sound mind, you know, with the weed and all. Seriously, what the fuck?

"I didn't know you smoked," he says as he sits down next to her on the swing. She lifts her legs briefly before laying them over his lap as he begins softly pushing them.

She shrugs and takes another drag. "Probably don't know a lot of things," she says quietly.

What was that supposed to mean? I mean, yes, they hadn't had much time lately to hang out, what with her living three hours away and all. But they still talked. Sort of. Right?

"I know when you're in one of your moods," he says while massaging her feet, her shoes probably toed off a long time ago. She was always doing that. "Talk to me."

She offers another shrug, but Stiles can see the pain in her eyes. This wasn't some small thing. Erica, while sarcastic and often times down right mean, was one of the happiest people he knew. She didn't take anyone's shit and could definitely hold a grudge if need be, but she was never...like this.

"Erica," he prompts gently.

She pulls her feet away, curling in to a ball and honestly Stiles is kind of terrified to hear what she's about to say. He's thinking of about ten horrible things right now and they're all getting worse and worse, and-

"Boyd and I were trying," she says with a shaky voice, almost too softly for Stiles to hear. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears and she picks at her shorts, avoiding his gaze. "We've actually been trying, for a while now."

Stiles swallows. Oh, please god, don't let her mean...

"Were?" he says.

She looks up at him then and Stiles' heart fucking breaks into a thousand pieces. Fuck. How had he not known? He would've been there. He would've found a way to be there. If he'd just...

"When?" he finds himself asking.

"Last week." She wipes at her eyes and looks off into the distance, her mind a thousand miles away. "That's why we couldn't make it to Nella's game. We were going to, um..." She clears her throat, finally meeting Stiles' eyes. "We were going to tell everyone at the barbeque, but we decided to wait until we found out its gender, you know, the big reveal."

"Oh, Erica." He doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know if there's anything he can say. So instead, he pulls her into his arms and just holds her, pretending not to notice as his shirt slowly dampens with her tears.

They sit like that for a long time. Until the sun starts to dip behind the trees, casting the sky in these lovely pinks and oranges, and longer still, and Erica is the first to break the silence.

"It was a girl," she says so quietly that Stiles would've missed it if her head hadn't still been on his shoulder. "They let me-" Her voice catches and she drags in a shaky breath before trying again. "They let me hold her. They cleaned her, you know, and wrapped her up in one of those receiving blankets."

Stiles gives up on holding his tears back because god, no one should have to go through that, especially not alone.

"And Boyd?" he prompts.

She pulls back and curls into herself once again. She looks entirely too young in that moment, too lost, too jaded for the Erica that Stiles knows. It's like he's looking at an entirely different person. No, scratch that. It's like Stiles is looking at the Erica he'd known back in high school, the one who suffered from epilepsy before she'd found a way to better control her symptoms. The girl who'd been a total outcast and hid herself behind baggy clothes like she could just disappear by sheer will, alone. And that's what terrified Stiles most. He hadn't ever wanted to see Erica so...lifeless ever again. Yet ten years later and here she is before him like nothing had changed.

She has her knees pulled to her chest, her shoulders practically up to her ears. She's picking at a loose splinter on the swing, completely avoiding his gaze.

"I think he blames me," she says, like she can't quite process the thought. "He didn't...he wouldn't hold her. They tried to hand her to him and he wouldn't let them. And he just...he wouldn't look at me, for days. And even now..."

She shrugs. The sliver of wood breaks off.

"Erica." He has no idea how to approach this but he can't let her think that that was even remotely true.

He scoots closer and takes one of her hands in his, dipping his head to catch her eye.

"Erica, please look at me." After a moment, she does. "Do you remember how sickenly in love the two of you were in high school?"

She gives him this look like she doesn't want to put up with whatever pep talk Stiles has in mind, but when he doesn't back down, she rolls her eyes and silently nods her head.

"And do you remember how you tried to hide your epilepsy from him because you were so sure he'd break up with you if he saw you have a seizure?"

"You know I do, Stiles," she says with a sigh, but let's him continue anyways.

"Well, then you remember how shitty that plan had gone."

And truly, it had. Stiles had been able to help her hide her seizures for a while, he'd make up some excuse or another to get her out of whatever situation she was in whenever she could let him know she'd had an aura. But they couldn't always depend on that.

They'd all been hanging out in the park at night - Scott with Allison, Boyd with Erica, and Stiles, perpetually alone - because, really, where else would five sophomore hang when none of them had cars and the bowling alley was shut down for repairs? Anyways, they'd all been goofing off at the park, chasing each other up the slide and seeing how far they could jump from the swing, when Erica had suddenly frozen up. Stiles was lucky enough to have been looking at her at that moment and had rushed to her side and helped her gently to the ground. Everyone started to panic, crowding them and crying about getting help, and Stiles had had to get them under control while attempting to help Erica though her seizure. It hadn't lasted too long and definitely not the worst Stiles had seen - nothing like that first one in PE class.

The worst part was waiting for Erica to gain consciousness and awareness, and once she realized what had happened...well, Stiles fucking hated seeing that face, never wanted her to feel ashamed or terrified.

"Just a three," he'd said to her, brushing her hair back. They'd made up a scale some time ago to help her process how badly her seizure had been and a three was nothing.

Well, for Stiles...for the others? It took a bit of time for them to realize this was pretty normal for Erica, and no, they didn't need an ambulance, and yes, she was going to be just fine, she just needed some space. And when Boyd had come forward and ever-so-gently asked if he could hold her, Erica had cried silently but nodded and Stiles had moved so Boyd could take his place. After that, while Erica didn't like when others saw her seizures, she was a bit more accepting of the times they did see.

"You were so scared that Boyd would flip and tease you like all those kids in gym class, but he didn't," Stiles says. "It may have taken him some time to be comfortable with it all, but he learned to adapt. I think he's just doing the same thing, here."

She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. "I just can't...she was there, Stiles. In my arms, and I...we were so fucking close."

She finishes with a sob that wracks her body and Stiles pulls her into another tight hug. He'd never seen Erica like this and he didn't entirely know what to do, really there wasn't anything he could do. She needed...

The screen door creaks open and Boyd steps out on the porch, taking one look at the scene before falling to his knees before Erica. She turns and wraps her arms around Boyd, sobbing into his neck as he rubs her back and shushes her.

It's obviously a moment they need to share alone, so Stiles gets up as quietly as he can and goes inside. Everyone has gathered in the kitchen and they're all sharing stories and laughing loudly, and Stiles really just can't handle that right now, so he climbs the stairs to hopefully find someplace quiet.

He doesn't mean to snoop (he totally does), but he's really good at it. Like, really good. Good enough to keep tabs on his father all throughout high school and maybe trample across a crime scene or two (or fifty). Either way, his curiosity totally gets the better of him when he sees the door at the end of the hallway with a giant 'D' carved into the wood. I mean, who _wouldn't_ open that door? Definitely not Stiles.

It's like stepping into an alternate universe, one that Stiles can clearly imagine young Derek living. There are metals and trophies everywhere, and not the kind Stiles has shoved somewhere up in the attic, the participation kind, no, these read things like "Most Valuable Player" and "Star Athlete" and "State Championship". Jesus. Derek was good, like, really good. Probably could've gone all the way if he'd wanted to and Stiles so needs to hear the story behind that. The story that explains why this baseball champion is now living in a small town, teaching t-ball to kids. Honestly, Stiles could listen to any story about Derek's life. Yet another thing he shouldn't be daydreaming about but totally can't help wanting.

Other than the trophies and some random knickknacks here and there, the room is filled with books, and when he takes a closer look, they seem to cross every genre. What teenage boy read freaking autobiographies and crime dramas and mythologies? Well, Stiles maybe, but he'd been a strange kid, especially with that one incredible paper over the history of the male circumcision. He can't imagine Derek scouring the internet for hours at a time looking for minute details for a personal project he was unable to put down until he knew every last fact. The books definitely intrigue him, but so does everything about Derek, apparently.

He's reading through the tightly packed bookshelf, taking note of books he also owns or has read (there's actually quite a bit here, he's impressed) when someone clears their throat. Stiles jumps, his elbow knocking over a pile of books, and as he turns to try to catch them, he bangs his head against one of the shelves. Damn it.

He turns with a sheepish grin only to find Derek staring at him from the doorway, eyebrows raised high on his forehead, just begging for Stiles to talk his way out of this one.

"Um, hi. It was...open?" Stiles says. He feels like he's having a conversation with Derek's eyebrows with the amount of attitude they're giving him. "Okay. Not open. It was totally closed but, I...you..."

Where was he going with this?

"So, uh, you like books," Stiles says lamely. Derek shoots him an unimpressed look. Totally lame. "I mean, well, this is an impressive collection. No wonder you volunteer at the library, huh? Being around all those books, gotta be like a dream come true."

Derek just smirks, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jam and he's watching Stiles closely with an unreadable expression. Stiles blushes under the attention, looking awkwardly around the room. He should probably leave, except...

Except he doesn't want to.

"I am sorry about snooping, by the way," Stiles says.

"I don't mind," Derek says in a soft tone that totally does not do things to Stiles.

He steps closer and Stiles' heart jackhammers in his chest. He should leave, he so shouldn't be doing this, except he can't really remember why at the moment because Derek's gaze is jumping around his face like he can't figure which of Stiles' features he wants to focus on. Stiles stands perfectly still since he can't seem to get his body to do much more than keep him upright at the moment.

He blinks and Derek is already much closer, close enough to hear every quick inhale Stiles is making, and he would be embarrassed at the fact if Derek didn't look just as effected as he feels. He looks like he wants to devour Stiles. Which doesn't really make sense since Stiles is, well...Stiles, and Derek is like the living, breathing embodiment of sex, which really isn't fair, but at the moment, Stiles isn't complaining because for some reason he can't comprehend, Derek seems to want to kiss him. He can so get behind that.

***

Derek obviously wasn't thinking. He wasn't thinking when he followed Stiles after he'd come in from out on the porch, only to find him in the bedroom he'd called his the first nineteen years of his life. Not many people had been in this room outside of his family, and he'd even kept them out as much as possible. His room was personal, it was the place where he could always escape, whether it be from his overwhelming family or just after a shitty day at school. The last person he'd allowed in his room, well...that had been a bit disastrous, to say the least. So the fact that he felt completely comfortable with Stiles snooping around his old room, well, the thought should probably concern him more than it does, but really, it feels like he'd just been working up to the idea, his heart knew, but his brain wasn't ready to handle the fact. And now...

And now Stiles was turning towards him with something close to wonder and Derek is taking a step closer, giving Stiles enough time to back up or tell him off. Except...he's doing neither of those things. He's lowering his eyes and licking his lips and standing as still as Derek has ever seen him. Waiting.

"I never got the chance to thank you," Stiles says suddenly, the words coming out breathless. "For Nella. It was...I...thank you."

Derek just shakes his head. He has no idea what to say. It really hadn't been a big deal, for him anyways. He could see how much it effected Stiles, had watched his face at the performance, hadn't been able to tear his eyes away, even as Nella finished. Yeah, he would easily do anything that was asked of him to see that expression cross Stiles' face again.

And this one, this look he was giving him now, all hooded eyes and pink cheeks and wet lips, Derek honestly doesn't know if he'd have a limit to what he would do to see this face over and over again. But before he can over think it, Stiles leans up and his lips are finally, finally on his.

Derek moans. Which only seems to encourage Stiles further as the next moment, his mouth is opening and he's breathing hot air against Derek's mouth, and his tongue swipes across Derek's lips. Derek gasps, opening his own mouth to allow Stiles access, which he eagerly takes advantage of.

Derek shivers as Stiles' tongue runs over his before he pulls away to nibble at his lip. Derek follows him, slipping his tongue into the heat of Stiles' mouth and when Stiles sucks roughly on it, Derek's hips automatically jerk forward, connecting with Stiles' thigh.

This shouldn't be so hot, Derek tells himself. It's a kiss. A kiss with an incredibly attractive man who definitely knows what he's doing and whose hands might actually drive him insane with the way they're running through his hair and scraping at the base of his skull. God, Derek needs to get in control otherwise he might just fucking cum in his pants like he's back in high school.

After one more nip on Stiles bottom lip, Derek pulls away, physically having to distance his body from Stiles' because he's entirely too tempted to rub one off on Stiles' leg. And when Stiles finally drags his eyes open, all Derek wants to do is kiss him until that expression is a permanent feature on Stiles' face.

"That was," Stiles says, his voice a bit hoarse, and Derek definitely doesn't take pride in that. "I um..."

Derek smiles at him, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah?"

"Shut up," Stiles says, slapping his shoulder and leaving his hand there to play with the material of his shirt. He clears his throat. "You, uh. You said you had something to talk about?"

Derek blinks, trying to clear his head. He had said that, as everyone was leaving the school and piling into their respective cars, they just hadn't had a chance alone yet.

"Yes. I, uh..." His brain didn't seem to be back online yet, but Stiles doesn't seem to have the problem.

"Why, Derek Hale," he says in an awful interpretation of an innocent, southern belle. "Did you get me up here just so you could defile my lips? I'm offended."

Derek snorts. "You're the one who couldn't keep his nose out of other people's business."

"Well, I suppose my father taught me right. He also told me to never be alone with a man, even an upstanding gentleman like yourself."

"Shut up," Derek mumbles against Stiles' lips before pressing a bruising kiss to them.

Stiles let's out a desperate whine making it nearly impossible for Derek to pull away. Fuck.

He does though. Eventually.

"We need to..." Another kiss, "talk."

"So talk," Stiles mumbles against his lips before doing something with his tongue that drives him absolutely insane.

Derek let's out a god-honest growl, surprising them both. Stiles pulls back and stares at him with these wide eyes and...

"Fuck," Stiles breathes out. "That was fucking hot. Why was that so hot? Oh my god, you need to do that more often."

Now it's Derek's turn to be stunned silent. Screw talking. He pulls Stiles in for another kiss and moves them back towards the bed in the corner, never once losing contact. They tumble onto the bed in a tangle of bodies and Stiles let's out a laugh, hiding his face against Derek's chest. When he finally catches his breath, he takes advantage of his position and begins dropping kisses against Derek's chest and neck, paying particular attention to the spot just under Derek's chin that drives him wild.

Derek basks in the feeling of a talented mouth against his skin, a warm body pressed against his. His heart skips a beat when he remembers who the body actually belongs to. He's kissing Stiles and for once it isn't just one of the many fantasies he's succumbed to over the last few weeks. It's real and god is it so much better, so worth the wait.

Because he feels like he's drowning, like his next breath of air can only come from Stiles' touch, from his lips, from the little gasps and groans he let's out like he's just as gone on him, as he is on Stiles. And god, is he gone. Stiles has him feeling like he's flying, and yet, at the same time, he grounds Derek in a way he hasn't felt in...ever. He's only had two serious relationships in his thirty years of life, has avoided them like the plague after Kate, whether he admits it or not.

But this, whatever he and Stiles are calling it, it already feels like so much more than what Derek has allowed himself, ever. It absolutely terrifies him, but he couldn't stop it if he tried (and he has, he'd tried so hard that first week to wipe Stiles from his mind, but the man made it so damn difficult with his adorable rambling and sweet smiles and the way he flawlessly adapted to his kids so that they never felt left out or overwhelmed or felt their voices weren't being heard). So at least for tonight, he'll allow himself all the pleasure Stiles is willing to give him, physical or otherwise.

***

They end up making out on Derek's old bed for another twenty minutes or so, rocking against each other but not going far enough to cum in their pants because that would be just about the worst thing Stiles could think of at the moment. He was already worried that people would notice their extended absence and he'd have to deal with the knowing looks and pressing questions, which is not something Stiles wants to deal with right now.

So instead he focuses on the man whose chest his head is laying upon and whose arms are wrapped just as tightly around him as Stiles is wrapped around Derek. He feels like a freaking teenager again, sneaking kisses and popping boners from the slightest touch. It's nice. It's different. Stiles hasn't had any semblance of a relationship with anyone other than his right hand in an embarrassing length of time, and god has he missed this, missed being held and kissed like the other person's life depended on it. Missed feeling needed for something other than homework or carpool or midnight sheet changes. For the last year or so, Stiles has forgotten that he's something other than a dad, that he's still a man with needs of his own. He feels silly that one make out session, no matter how incredible and hot and addictive, is making all these thoughts fly to the forefront of his mind.

Sure, sometimes he feels completely overwhelmed by the idea that he somehow has three little humans depending on him, but he loves it. He thrives on the madness. Loves how he'd been there as Ty took his first very wobbly steps, spoke his first word (you guessed it, "no"), loves how he took to calling him Da and looks at him like he hung the moon. He enjoys the little arguments he has with Nella over just about everything as she seems to have an opinion on everything and can't seem to help but share it (often with a dash of attitude, an eye-roll, or sigh thrown in). And when she gets overly excited about something and reminds Stiles so much of himself, Stiles can't help but wonder what he missed out on those first seven years of her life that he wasn't apart of. And Chase, god, that kid. He was finally coming out of his shell, proving what Stiles already knew, that he was the sweetest, smartest, funniest little kid Stiles has ever known.

He loves those kids with absolutely everything he has, but is it really too much to ask to have someone take care of him, just once? To not have to worry about dirty diapers and school projects and making sure that meals meet the very specific requirements each of the kids have.

"What are thinking about," Derek says, startling Stiles from his thoughts. Derek's chest rumbles with the words, and while Stiles has always had a slight obsession with Derek's voice, he likes this even more.

"Mmm," he replies. He probably shouldn't be this sleepy at nine o'clock at night, but he can't help it. Derek is just so comfy and so good at running his fingers through his hair.

"Still with me here?" Derek laughs and Stiles smiles but refuses to move. "We are going to have to eventually get up, you know."

Stiles replies with a bite to Derek's ridiculously large pec which earns him another growl that so does things to him. Derek decides to retaliate, though, by digging his fingers into Stiles' ribs, forcing Stiles to squeal and spasm uncontrollably, and it's at that moment that the door flies open to reveal both Cora and Laura, twin smirks on their faces.

Derek releases Stiles who falls to the ground in an unceremonious heap, knocking some books off the bedside table in the process.

"Whatcha guys doin'?" Cora asks with a grin that tells Stiles exactly what she thinks they'd been doing.

His face burns.

"Um..."

"I was just showing Stiles the rest of the house," Derek says before Stiles can think of a reasonable explanation.

"Did you happen to show him your bottom drawer, Derek?" Cora says with an evil twinkle in her eye. Laura nudges her lightheartedly and they both cackle, and Derek...well he's the picture-perfect definition of mortification. Now Stiles is curious.

"What's in your bottom drawer?" he asks, reaching to pull it open.

Derek slaps his hands against it, blushing furiously. "N-nothing."

"Anymore."

Laura chuckles before stepping in, pulling Cora away from the door. "Come on, Cora. Let's leave the boys to their _tour_."

"You so owe me twenty bucks," they hear Cora say as they move down the hall.

Stiles glances over at Derek who looks just about as shocked as Stiles feels. He breaks out laughing, all the nervous energy bubbling over, and Derek joins him a few moments later. He pulls Stiles to his feet once they catch their breaths then leads him out the room.

"Wait," Stiles says, pausing at the door and glancing back into the room. "Seriously, what's in your drawer?"

Derek shakes his head fondly at him, rolling his eyes. "Let it go, Stiles."

They start towards the stairs. "See, when you tell me to let something go, I kind of have this habit of doing the exact opposite."

Derek only laughs, and Stiles finds himself falling just that much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took sooooo much effort to write. Seriously, four times as long as the others. I'm proud but also exhausted. I hope you liked it!
> 
> *not a medical professional here, so let me know if I messed up somewhere in Erica's scene!
> 
> *poem from http://www.americaadopts.com/25-motivational-adoption-quotations-and-poems-for-adopting-families/  
> That I translated with the help of my mother and google translator.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update. I'm trying to crank the last half of this fic out before school starts and it gets lost in the ever-increasing demands of my life. This chapter caused me a lot of stress and frustration and I decided to break it off before things get worse (it was taking a turn for the angsty and y'all deserve better than that). I'm just glad I finally forced my way through it, but hopefully the following chapters will be a bit easier. Thank you all for sticking with it, and a special thanks to Megan for sporadically beta-ing this fic for me and literally bullying me into writing (at my request, of course). You are a blessing!

"Stiles," a voice whispers right into his ear.

Stiles groans and turns over, mumbling a "Five more minutes," into his pillow.

He's so close to drifting off again when a weight lands on his back and someone chants "Stiles" over and over again in an increasingly annoying fashion. He manages to withstand it for all of thirty seconds until the shaking begins.

"Early," Stiles groans as he rolls onto his back, tossing whoever was using him as a trampoline, to the side.

"Stiles," he hears Nella whine straight into his ear again. "You were supposed to be up forever ago."

No. That can't be true. He distinctly remembers not having any plans except keeping him and the kids alive. And maybe some coffee. Definitely coffee, actually. There was no way he could survive a single day without it when he had three helpless humans depending on him. And-

The doorbell rings suddenly (who even does that this early?) and the kids make a mad dash to the door, toppling over Stiles in the process, and he has the briefest of thoughts that he's warned them to not open the door by themselves before he hears, "Sheriff!". Stiles barely manages to pull himself out of bed, but he can't, for the life of him, come up with a reasonable explanation as to why his dad is here at the asscrack of dawn. Edging on worried, he makes his way downstairs to find all three kids semi-dressed like they'd tried to get ready for the day before waking Stiles, and hanging off his father with obvious excitement.

"What's going on?" Stiles grumbles as he wipes sleep from his eyes.

His dad just raises both eyebrows in his signature "Dad look" which Stiles interprets to mean he shouldn't be surprised to know Stiles forgot something important, but is anyways.

Nella rolls her eyes and sighs in complete exasperation. "We're going to breakfast, duh."

"Oh, am I invited?" he teases.

"It's your birthday, Stiles!"

Stiles would like to claim that the way his jaw drops in utter shock is all a ruse, that he knew all along what day it was and what all this hullabaloo was about. But he'd be lying. It wasn't entirely his fault, okay? He's just been crazy busy with the kids' activities and work and trying to get ahead in his side job so that he could have more time with the kids during their approaching break. Plus, his birthday was never a big deal for him. Ever since his mom passed, he never felt like celebrating, always had that lingering weight of "something's missing" hanging around. His dad usually just dragged him to their favorite diner where they splurged on some chocolate chip pancakes, then Stiles was left to his own devices for the rest of the day, which he usually spent gorging himself on junk food and video games and trying to pretend he didn't feel entirely alone. He never thought about how having kids would change that.

But the way Nella and Chase are looking at him like they can barely contain their excitement changes everything. He wouldn't mind spending the day at their mercy, being dragged around town to celebrate however they wanted.

"You don't say," Stiles says, continuing his surprise like it's been a joke all along, and blatantly ignoring his father's pointed look. "Well, what are we still doing here, then?"

Which is how Stiles finds himself at the diner he'd been coming to for as long as he could remember with two energetic kids in princess dresses and another wearing an Incredible Hulk mask backwards at eight thirty on a Sunday morning. He tries desperately to keep their antics down considering the diner is packed with elderly folk, but notices that all the glances they're receiving are more fond than annoyed, so he let's the kids be their weird selves, only denying Nella of her attempt to order a sundae for breakfast. She does it every time they come here, but Stiles doesn't really mind. He's gotta give the kid props for the effort; if anything, it showed dedication. Not that he was going to cave anytime soon since that was the last thing he needed; the kid was already a challenge to keep up with without the added bonus of a sugar rush. No, Stiles preferred to stay alive, thank you very much.

As they wait for their food, a slightly less sugary option of chocolate chip banana pancakes, Stiles can't help but wonder how he got here. Two years ago, if someone had told him that he'd be a father to not one but three children and that he'd be spending his days dealing with dirty diapers and panic attacks and midnight bedding changes, he'd probably have laughed them into the next decade. But here he is, somehow deemed responsible for three moldable, fragile humans who seem to want to be apart of his life as much as he wanted to be apart of theirs. Stiles will probably never get over the awe he feels over that.

These little buggers are everything to him. All he wants is to make sure that they are given as much love and care as he can possibly give. They've all suffered enough bullshit to last a lifetime, and he won't let them suffer any more, if he has anything to say for it.

There are still times, of course, where Stiles feels like he's failing them. Times where he thinks that maybe, just maybe, there's someone out there that can do better, can provide everything they need or want. With Stiles, they live pretty much paycheck to paycheck, only buying the absolute necessities with a bit to save for emergencies. He's not home as much as he wants to be. He's not as active with them as he wants to be, stuck in his "office" finishing off a few projects while leaving them to their own devices. He barely has energy to take them to t-ball or the library or shopping. He can only offer them the basics, and he sometimes wonders if they'd feel happier with someone else. Not that he could ever imagine giving them up. Still, at moments like this, it feels like enough. _He_ feels like enough.

He is celebrating his birthday with the four most important people in his life. Nella's berating them with a play-by-play of her performance the other night, while peppering in some moments from the after party at the Hales' house, like they hadn't all been there. Chase is coloring in the placemat he'd been given while softly singing random snippets of the Frozen soundtrack, lost in his own little word. And Ty's attempting to wiggle his way out of Stiles' lap to no-doubt wreck havoc on the restaurant and its patrons. They're all happy and healthy and moderately clean (Nella had apparently attempted to make him breakfast in bed which really only ended with all three kids covered in flour and milk - he honestly didn't want to know what they were attempting to make).

Yes, maybe somedays they ran late to things and the kids argued and Stiles could barely keep his eyes open long enough to get them to bed. But days like these made it all worth it. He wouldn't give anything in the world to change his life. It was perfect the way it was.

By the time the food arrives and they all plow through a giant stack of pancakes and chocolate milk, it's almost ten. Stiles is preparing himself for whatever the kids have in store for him that day when his dad leans back and rubs his gut and says, "Well, we should get going if we wanna see all the animals."

Stiles' brow furrows. "We're going to the zoo?"

Nella giggles as she follows the sheriff out of the both. "Not you, silly."

That confuses him even more. What was happening?

"Yeah," Chase adds as he slides out from the booth behind Stiles. "You have to go home so we can get ready for..."

He cuts off abruptly like he suddenly remembers he's not supposed to say what he was about to say, and given the frantic look Nella is giving him, Stiles figures that's exactly it. Chase's face pinches and turns pink like he's barely holding back tears, obviously upset at himself.

"I don't get to go to the zoo?" Stiles says to divert his attention, clenching his chest in mock-heartache. "But who's going to make all the animal sounds and finish your slushie?"

Chase gives him a calculating look, trying to decide whether or not he'd blown what was obviously a surprise. Stiles just gives him a wide smile until the panic bleeds away from his face and is replaced with a tiny grin.

"Guess we'll have to make do," his dad plays along, rousing a giggle from Nella.

"Seriously, Dad, I don't mind," Stiles says, focusing his attention back on the matter at hand. "I'll go to the zoo with you guys. It'll be fun."

His dad claps him once on the shoulder before taking Ty from his arms. "No. This is your day. You deserve one day off, so go do whatever you want. We'll be back by three."

He gives him a meaningful look which almost has Stiles rolling his eyes, but he holds back just barely. Yes, he gets it. His "surprise" party is at three. It's not like he's the Sheriff's son or anything. He can take a hint, thank you very much.

They swing by the house to drop Stiles off and to grab the diaper bag before heading out, leaving Stiles alone in an empty house. The place hasn't been this quiet since the kids first moved in, and even before that, since he moved in with Ty. It's actually kind of creepy. On any other birthday, he'd normally be halfway through a tray of cookies and a bag of licorice, well into failing at a new video game he bought himself. But this year feels different. He feels...alone.

He's seconds away to calling his dad to wait up for him, but as his finger hovers over a different name and he selected it before he can convince himself out of it.

***

Derek stares down at his phone in confusion. He never gets unknown numbers. He never gets phone calls, really, unless it's his mother or an emergency. He's about to mute it and let it go to voicemail when he gets this tingling urge to just answer it. So he does.

"Hello?"

There's a slight pause, but he can hear breathing on the other side of the line, so the person hadn't hung up yet. Not that they say anything.

"Hello," he tries again.

"Oh, um, hi," a very familiar voice finally replies. "It's, um, Stiles? Stilinski?"

Derek let's out a snort, drawing the attention of his sisters. He turns his back to them.

"Yes. I kind of figured that," he says lightly.

"Hey. You don't know. 'Stiles' could be a very common name," Stiles mockingly chastises across the line. Derek rolls his eyes. "Just because it isn't a common name in the US, didn't mean it's not popular in, like, Sweden or Poland or something."

"Sure, Stiles," he laughs out, immediately regretting using his name as both Laura and Cora were moving into his personal space and giving him expectant looks. "What's up?"

What's up? Smooth, Derek, smooth.

"Oh, um..." Stiles pauses long enough to make Derek think he'd dialed his number by accident. Or was already regretting this whole conversation. Or- "I was wondering if you were busy today. Like, right now?"

Derek nearly drops his phone. He was not expecting that, but the sudden butterflies in his stomach tell him he's not entirely opposed to the idea. He can't remember the last time he got nervous over the prospect of meeting someone. Not unless you counted his last encounter with Kate, which he didn't, considering it was an entirely different emotion twisting his stomach.

"I mean, you don't have to. If you already have plans or something," Stiles quickly recovers, drawing Derek's attention to the fact that he hasn't spoken for awhile.

"No, yeah. I'd...that sounds good. Give me ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes," Stiles confirms. "I'll, um, I'll see you then."

Derek hangs up the phone, reveling in his excitement for all of the second until his sisters ruin it.

"Aww," Laura croons, sidling up to him and nudging his arm. "Derek's got a date."

"Shut up," he says, trying to keep his face from warming. He blushes so damn easily, as his sisters never refrain from reminding him, and he really doesn't need to add fuel to the fire right now.

"That's so cuuuute," Cora adds in a sing-song voice. "Derek's all grown up."

He doesn't need to remind them that he's been on a number of dates before - not that that's what this was - and has even had a few serious relationships (one with another man). Not to mention a fiance, not that it was the appropriate time to bring that up (since there never was an appropriate time for that), especially considering that relationship had been the reason he'd spent the last two years not speaking with his family. Yeah, not bringing that shit up any time soon.

"I'm just keeping him away from Scott's house until the party," he says, quickly and desperately trying to come up with an excuse. Which he wouldn't need if his sisters weren't so damn nosy.

Laura and Cora share a wolfish grin, their eyebrows dancing in a secret form of communication that Derek can't begin to decipher. Whatever. They can think what they want. Derek just needs to find his damn keys.

"Just doing your civic duty, huh Derek?" Cora asks, barely keeping the laughter out of her voice.

He glares at her, pretty sure what she's getting at.

Laura barks out a laugh that she tries to hind behind a cough.

"How exactly are you going to keep our dear Stiles entertained for five hours?"

His cheeks flush and he whacks his head against the side table he'd just been looking under, which promptly send both Laura and Cora into a laughing fit.

He tries not to replay their teasing words on his way over to Stiles' place, which he possibly takes a bit faster than the speeding limit deems legal. But he can't help it. If he were being honest, the thought had flashed across his mind before he could shove it back into that hidden part of his brain. He wouldn't say no if Stiles offered, but he wasn't going to show up to his house expecting sex.

Sure, he'd thought about it, usually late at night when he was alone in the quiet of his house and he couldn't keep his brain from the image of Stiles next to him, underneath him. That wasn't the problem though. The problem was that those fantasies kept escaping the confines of his room until he could easily imagine Stiles in every aspect of his life. He wanted to cook for him, to give him shoulder rubs to help ease the stress he always seemed to be under, to fall asleep curled around him and have him hold Derek through the night. To wake up every morning with Stiles' face being the first he sees.

To call Stiles' kids, his. And maybe, one day, add a few more to the pack.

And it was those thoughts that terrified him. He may have grown up with a large family, but he'd never really thought he'd want one himself. He was pretty decent with his t-ball team and loved coaching, but that didn't automatically translate into him being a good father. That was a twenty-four hour commitment. He wanted to believe his love for children would compensate for his lack of experience, but as Kate reminded him time and time again, he wasn't really cut out to be a father what with his love of travel and inability to keep a simple houseplant alive. She also hadn't wanted any children, never even had it on the table, so Derek had never entertained the thought.

But now? Now he wanted to try. Stiles made him want to try. If Derek loved his kids so much already, how would he feel if he could call them his? Theirs?

"Stop," he says outloud, scolded himself in the rearview mirror. "You can't think like that. This isn't...he doesn't want you like that. You're just friends. Nothing more."

He didn't entirely believe it, but he figured if he kept repeating it, he eventually would. So what if it's basically been his motto for the past two weeks? It's bound to work eventually, right?

***

Oh, god. What has he done? He is not prepared for this. He's totally not panicking as he watches a very familiar Camaro pull up the driveway. That would be pathetic. And it's not like Stiles can send Derek home now after asking him here in the first place, not that he really wants to. He just...he's not ready for this.

Honestly, he has no idea what made him call Derek in the first place. They've never hung out or even been in each other's vicinity without the kids or a large group of people. It's not like Stiles doesn't want to spend time with just Derek, god did he want to, he just isn't sure if he can trust himself to behave. As much as he tries to convince himself he doesn't have feelings for Derek - not that he's anywhere near ready to put a name to them - and as much as he wants to believe he's just protecting the kids (and himself in turn) from possible heartbreak, he very much would like to get to know the man who has changed their lives so much in the brief time they've known him. And that curiosity is not entirely innocent and PG, either.

Derek was gorgeous. Stiles knew it. All of the t-ball moms knew it. Every fucking person with eyes knew it. The only one who didn't seem to realize Derek's effect on the human population was the man himself. He either had no clue as to how attractive he was, or he was very good at playing it cool.

Either way, Stiles was very effected by the man, and while he'd asked him over in complete innocence (okay, 95% innocence...90%...), he was tempted to throw that out the window and show Derek just how attractive he found him. Because that kiss, that heated makeout session they'd shared, had left him in a much worse shape than he'd been before. Now that Stiles has had a taste, he craves more. So much more.

He holds himself back, if only just, as he opens the door to the man of his dreams. Literally.

"Hi," Stiles croaks out after staring for probably far too long to be socially acceptable. Shit. He can do this.

Derek gifts him with a shy, little grin that's almost just a twitch of his lips. "Hey."

They stand there for a moment longer before Stiles remembers how to function and let's Derek in.

"Would you, um...like anything to drink?" Stiles asks, moving further into the apartment.

"Water's fine."

He grabs two glasses and fills them, carefully avoiding Derek's gaze and putting off one of the most awkward encounters he's ever had to endure. He really shouldn't have invited him over. They obviously didn't have anything in common outside of the kids. Well, except that steamy kiss they'd shared the other night. But really, is that anything to go on? He should just-

"Stiles?"

He nearly jumps from how close the voice sounds and turns to find Derek not a foot away. He knows he looks panicked, but really, warn a guy.

"I can go if..." He doesn't finish, but he doesn't have to. Stiles is acting like a skittish mouse, afraid of every noise, every movement.

He doesn't want him to go. He most definitely does not want him to go. It's just...

"Just what?" Derek asks, taking a minute step closer, his eyes dipping to Stiles' mouth.

Damn it. Stiles really needed to stop doing that. He was forever getting himself in trouble with his nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter.

"Just..." Stiles whispers more than speaks.

Derek inches forward, his disgustingly attractive eyebrows nearing his hairline. He waits.

"I can't promise you anything," he blurts before he can stop himself. "I don't...I haven't...it's been a long time. Like an embarrassingly long time since, you know. But an even longer time since I've been with someone, like, long-term. And I have the kids to think about now, you know? I can't just...hook up with you then never see you again. The kids would be devastated and I'm not one hundred percent sure Scott won't cause you physical harm and-"

"Stiles," Derek thankfully, blessedly, interrupts his rambling. His hand snakes out to brush against Stiles' neck and Stiles is now twice as still, his breath catching in his throat. "I'll take whatever your willing to give me."

"How are you even real?" Stiles breathes before surging up and capturing Derek's lips with his own.

Derek briefly smiles against his lips before using his hand that's still on Stiles' neck to take control of the kiss, somehow slowing it down without loosing the urgency. His thumb brushes against Stiles' jaw, and it's like he's suddenly brought back to life, needing to feel Derek under his hands just as much as Derek needed to touch him.

Stiles releases his grip on the counter in favor of sliding his hands along Derek's sides, bringing them up to span the broad expansion of his back. He rakes his nails down along Derek's spine, and even through the material of his shirt, it forces a moan out of Derek which Stiles greedily chases with his tongue, inciting his own moan. Derek's mouth is hot and tastes of cinnamon and Stiles explores every corner, every nook, chasing that taste and dancing with Derek's own exploring tongue.

When they finally break apart, Stiles barely pulls in a much needed breath before Derek begins to nibble down his neck, placing light bites and kitten licks here and there. Which is totally unfair because it's making Stiles a boneless mess who can't even think properly while Derek seems to be in perfect control of all his facilities. Totally not fair. Stiles is going to do something about that.

Before he can psych himself out of it, Stiles drops the hand that isn't holding Derek to his neck and cups Derek through his jeans. Derek moans against his skin, his hips automatically seeking purchase.

"Maybe we should move this upstairs," Stiles says breathlessly. Apparently that's the wrong thing to say, though, since the next second, Derek is pulling away and Stiles has to physically hold back a whine.

When he finally manages to pull his eyes open, he finds Derek only inches in front of him, his eyes scanning Stiles' face like he's a puzzle Derek can't quite figure out. Stiles thought he'd been pretty clear there.

"Are you sure?" Derek says finally, his eyes dipping quickly to Stiles' mouth before returning to his eyes.

This close, Stiles can catalogue at least six colors in Derek's eyes, some he's not sure have a name. They totally deserve a name. Stiles swears he'll spend however long they have together cataloging each and every shade and give them the names they deserve.

"Yeah," Stiles croaks out. He attempts to clear his throat, but finds it nearly too thick to swallow. "I want this."

Derek studies him a moment longer, until Stiles is worried Derek is second guessing his decision to be with him, which really wouldn't surprise Stiles. Disappoint him, sure, but he knows Derek could have literally anyone he wanted. Why he chose Stiles, he may never know, but Stiles really doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Derek suddenly pulls him from his thoughts as he starts backing out of the kitchen, pulling Stiles along with him, his eyes never leaving Stiles'. Stiles follows along dumbly, that is, until they reach the stairs and he trips over the first fucking step. Derek catches him easily, his eyebrows up to his hairline in silent laughter.

"You try using the stairs when there's a stupidly hot man in front of you," Stiles mumbles, instantly regretting the words. Especially with the way Derek is looking at him now, like he's barely containing his laughter.

"Stupidly hot, huh?"

"Shut up."

"Would you rather go first so that I can have the pleasure of tripping up the stairs?"

Stiles narrows his eyes, trying to figure out if Derek is kidding or not. Not that Derek's helping at all, silently quirking a brow like he knows what Stiles is thinking. Ass.

"You're an ass," Stiles says.

"You love my ass," Derek says, which, true. Most definitely true. Stiles has many ideas of what to do with that firm handful. Has spent many a night thinking about just that.

He gulps. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that," he says a bit more breathy than he intended.

"Do you really just want to stand here talking about my ass, or do you want to-"

"No, yeah." Stiles clears his throat. "Yes. Definitely go upstairs. Yes to the moving."

***

Derek should've said something. He had planned to, had practiced his speech all the way over to Stiles' place. But as soon as the door was pulled open, all his thoughts and sanity vanished because Stiles had looked at him like he couldn't possibly imagine not getting his hands on Derek right-that-second.

And god did Derek want that too. But that wasn't all he wanted. He hadn't been entirely honest when he'd told Stiles he'd take whatever he could get. He would. He wouldn't pressure Stiles into something he wasn't ready for. But he wasn't exactly going to be happy about it.

Derek was gone on the man. Hopelessly gone.

He wasn't quite ready to call it what it was because shouldn't this be too soon to know? To feel this way? But he knew in his heart that while he could claim to be okay with whatever Stiles was prepared to give him, he wouldn't stop imagine a life with him. A future. A family.

And really, Stiles should know. Stiles should be allowed to know that Derek couldn't just leave them at a drop of a hat. That he would be devastated if whatever he and Stiles had ended.

But Stiles is practically dragging Derek into his room, hands already greedily attempting to unbutton Derek's shirt, his mouth never leaving Derek's throat. And Derek can't think of a sane way to bring the topic up. He can't think of much at this point, really.

As much as he'd imagined what this moment would be like - and believe him, he had - it was nothing compared to reality. Stiles' fingers were talented. They quickly rid Derek of his shirt then continued to unravel him with their exploratory touch. They cast lightly over his chest, scrape along the hair leading down his stomach in a way that makes his abs clench and all the blood in his body rush below the belt. Derek is being driven insane by the digits alone.

Stiles shouldn't be the only one to have all the fun, though. If they only had just this one night, Derek was going to make it one they both remembered.

Before Stiles can render him obsolete with those fingers alone, Derek picks Stiles up by his waist, pulling an endearing squeal from the man, and tosses him on the bed. Stiles stares up at him in shock, the aroused flush never leaving his skin.

Derek begins to unbuckle his jeans, stopping at the look Stiles is giving him. "We can..." He swallows and tried again. "We can stop whenever you want."

Stiles finally pulls his eyes away from Derek's crotch to meet his eyes. "I don't want," he says, lifting himself onto his elbows. "Please, do not stop. Ever."

Derek raises an eyebrow at that, which earns him a deeper blush and urges Derek to find out how far down that flush goes. How many different ways he can make Stiles redden.

Yeah. He was fucked.

***

Stiles is lying in bed, half thrown over Derek in post-coital cuddles (their second of the day), glaring at the bedroom door like it was personally offending him (which it was, being so far away and the shower being even further), when his phone goes off, serenading the room in Shakira's Hips Don't Lie. He moans. Scott.

He thumbles around the floor, searching for his jeans, without even bothering to lift his head. He seems to elbow Derek, if the resounding grunt is anything to go by, and offers him a mumbled apology as he finally pulls the phone free.

"Scotty, what's up?" Stiles says into the phone as he gracelessly falls back onto the bed. Derek's hand sneaks around his waist the moment he's back in the vicinity, and Stiles barely holds back his sigh as he snuggles closer.

"Dude, hey," Scott says, seemingly distracted by something on the other end of the line. The not-so-surprising-surprise-party, no doubt. "What are you doing right now?"

Stiles has to physically bite his lip from blurting out, "Derek Hale" in his typical sarcastic manner. Derek bites his shoulder playfully like he knows exactly where Stiles' mind just went. Stiles shoves him with his shoulder which earns him another small bite, this one higher up along the tendon in his neck, which makes him nearly moan outloud and his breathe catch in his throat.  

"Stiles?"

Shit. "Um, yeah. Nothing really." Stiles sits up and moves to the end of the bed, not trusting Derek or himself to behave. "Why? What's up?"

"What're you doing tonight?," Scott asks, obviously trying for casual.

"I don't know," Stiles says, biting his lip to keep the laughter in. "I was thinking about going to the movies later. Maybe go for a run. Haven't been running for a long time. Thought maybe I could pick that back up again."

Derek snickers from somewhere behind him and Stiles reaches back to smack him without turning, his hand connecting with something. Ha!

"You hate running," Scott says in confusion. Stiles rolls his eyes. Oh, Scotty.

"I could be persuaded out of it," Stiles says, already pulling on his underwear. "Depends on what you had in mind."

"Oh...um...Allison wanted you over for dinner."

"Allison, huh? No one else is gunna be over for this 'dinner'?"

"Um...no. Just...just us three."

"Uh-huh."

Scott sighs. There's a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line and when he comes back on, he whispers. "Dude, Lydia's going to kill me if you don't at least act surprised. Please?"

"Would I ever disappoint you, buddy?" Stiles says. "We'll be over in twenty."

"We?"

Shit.

"Me! I. Numero uno. 'We' is just an expression, you know?"

Stiles glances over his shoulder to find Derek already out of bed and across the hall, starting the shower. He doesn't know if they're supposed to keep this all on the DL or what, so he chose the safest option. Safest for him, at least.

"O...kay..." Scott draws out on the other end of the line. 

Stiles can just imagine his face as he tries to work out Stiles' strange antics. Nine out of ten times, Scott is mind-numbingly oblivious to things. But the one time he isn't, he doesn't drop the shit until he knows what's what. Stiles is just hoping this isn't that one time.

"See you soon. And act surprised. Got it," Stiles affirms before offering his goodbyes and ending the call.

"Shower's ready."

Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin, already completely forgotten Derek. He's leaning against the door jam in nothing but his boxer briefs, studying Stiles. Stiles flushes under the attention but gets up and follows him to the shower.

And if they share one more hasty handjob before joining the rest of the world, well...who's to know.

**

Thankfully the party is not one of those hide-in-the-dark-and-scare-the-living-bejesus-out-of-the-poor-unsuspecting-birthday-person kind of parties. Stiles does not do well with those kind of surprises - he can still distinctly remember the one time Scott had tried that their freshman year of high school and how they'd ended up at the hospital that night when Scott's nose wouldn't stop bleeding. He learned his lesson, though, since the surprises stopped after that, much to both of their relief.

Stiles is glad the message seemed to have been passed on as they pull up to Scott and Allison's fully lit house, cars plainly parked in sight.

Derek pulls in to the open spot in the driveway and turns off the car, neither of them moving to get out.

"Did you plan this?" Stiles asks suddenly, the thought floating around his head for some time now. "The whole keep-Stiles-busy-while-we-set-up?"

Derek gives him an odd look. "You're the one who called me, remember?"

"No, yeah. Of course." Duh, Stiles. He moves to get out of the car, but a hand on his wrist stops him and turns back.

Derek is looking at the hand on Stiles' wrist, his fingers brushing back and forth like he just can't help the contact. That makes two of them. "For what it's worth," Derek says then clears his throat, his eyes never lifting. "I don't regret it."

"Neither do I," Stiles says softly.

That gets Derek's attention and he finally lifts his eyes to meet Stiles' unwavering gaze before offering him a small, shy smile that melts Stiles' heart a bit.

"We should probably get in there," Derek offers, motioning towards the house with his head.

"Oh, please. The party doesn't start til the birthday boy arrives," Stiles says with a laugh all while climbing out of the car.

If he knew his friends, and he liked to think he did, at least one of them would've been watching their little exchange, probably pulling a few others over to watch as well. And with the knowing look he receives from Lydia as soon as he steps through the door - plus the fact that she and Allison are standing way too close to one of the front windows to be natural - there's no doubt that they caught at least half of it. At least Allison has the decency to look embarrassed. 

Stiles ignores them in favor of moving further into the house where everyone seems to be congregated in the kitchen and on the back porch.

The first to notice their entrance is Ty. He stops mid-bounce on Melissa's knees and screams, "Da-ee," probably straight into her ear, as he scrambles off her lap and tackles Stiles.

A silence goes over the room before everyone is up and moving and crying "Happy Birthday", pulling Stiles into hug after hug. Stiles can't help the blush he's sporting. He's never been one for being at the center of attention, has always preferred the sidelines. But this, knowing that his family is here together, for him, it brings a sudden wave of emotion he can't hold back.

The night is filled with laughter and sugar and embarrassing childhood stories (most of which embarrasses Scott more than Stiles since he's always been fond of those memories). His dad gets misty-eyed any time he shares a story involving Stiles' mother and the room quiets down. It's not his favorite thing to think about, the time before she passed, because thinking about that always makes Stiles remember her sickness and the time spent in the hospital and all the moments he'd wished she'd been there for him after she'd passed. 

But sometimes, at moments like this - surrounded by family and the people closest to him - Stiles doesn't mind as much. It feels almost...good. Like it's bringing her back to life, if only just for a moment.

Eventually, the party starts to tamper off and everyone says their goodbyes. The Sheriff helps Derek transfer the car seats into the backseat of Derek's car, and Stiles buckles them in, Ty already passed out an hour ago and the older two fighting sleep.

Derek drives them home and Stiles spends the time staring out the window, trying to understand why this all feels so...effortless. As much as he hates it, Derek fits so flawlessly into their lives. It gives Stiles this sense of comfort...a sense of completeness. Like this is what he'd been waiting for his whole life. And he hates that. That is not a road he needs to go down.

It takes Stiles a good thirty minutes or so to calm the kids to sleep when they eventually get home around 11, leaving him once again alone in the silence. He doesn't mind it so much this time, though. He feels more melancholy than...sad or whatever he's been feeling lately. He just keeps imagining the kids grown up, wondering if they'll remember these moments. Remember these people. If they'll think back on the time they shared with Stiles (no matter how brief it may be) with fondness.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I literally cannot write a chapter without SOME sort of angst. But hey, at least I'm writing? Right?
> 
> Look, mom. Porn!
> 
> Honestly, though, thanks sooo, so much to [Mishka](thewolf-inred.tumblr.com) for all the help and support and not laughing at the fact that I was pretty much in tears at the prospect of writing smut. I have survived. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Allison Argent-McCall is a true gift to this cruel, cruel world and if anyone says otherwise, Stiles is fully prepared to fight them. He owns a bat and he may have picked up a few things over the years on how to dispose of a body, being the Sherrif's son and all. 

One of the many things that makes Allison such a wonderful human being was her desire to watch Stiles' kids as preparation for caring for her own soon-to-be-born child. And Stiles is fully prepared to take advantage of her anxiety. Not that he thinks for a second that Allison won't be a great mom. Hell, she'd pretty much singlehandedly kept Scott and Stiles alive these past six years. If she can handle them, she can handle anything.

Still, Stiles would practically kill for a night off right about now, so he's not going to look a gift horse in its mouth. 

"Hey, I brought the stuff," Stiles says in a gruff voice, poorly attempting to appear shady, as he enters her first grade classroom.

The kids are at lunch and Allison is sitting behind her desk at the front of the room, her feet propped up on the desk and a salad balanced on her large belly. She snorts and rolls her eyes as Stiles crosses the room, his arms weighed down with a duffel bag full of the kids' things, Ty's diaper bag, and the toddler himself who's already squirming in Stiles' arms trying to break free to attack Allison.

"Aw, yes, the illicit overnight bags," she says with a playful grin. She makes grabby hands at Ty and straightens in her chair to allow him room.

"It's the good stuff, too. High quality," Stiles jokes, handing her the toddler. 

He sets the bags down in the corner behind the desk then hops up on it, swinging his legs idly, before swiping a cookie from Allison's lunch bag. She slaps his leg playfully, attention fully on the babbling two-year-old in her lap.

"Maybe I should be calling your father then. If you're getting into the hard stuff."

Stiles gasps. "How dare you."

Ty quickly bores of Allison's attention and wiggles his way out of her lap and makes his way over the selection of toys at the back of the room. They both pause to watch as he starts pulling large cardboard blocks from their bin, building a makeshift wall before knocking it down to build it up once more.

Allison pulls herself from her chair and waddles over to the round tables, laying out papers at each of the chairs for the returning kids. She squatting down to pick up an errant paper when she suddenly gasps, her hand instinctively going to her stomach. Stiles is at her side in seconds, helping her to sit in one of the tiny kid chairs and hovering awkwardly, not knowing what to do to help. Or if he can even do anything.

"Are you alright?" God, he hopes it's nothing serious.

"Yeah, he's just a really good kicker," she says as she rubs absentmindedly like this happens on a daily basis, which for all Stiles knows, it does. He's far from the pregnancy expert. "He's been moving pretty much nonstop lately."

"You still have a couple of months to go, don't you?" He settles into a chair next to her. "He's not, like, coming out prematurely, right?"

She just rolls her eyes and Stiles takes that to mean everything is fine and dandy. "Ugh, don't remind me. Scott is going into overdrive lately, reading a thousand parenting books like he's doing some last minute dad prep. He wants to know every single detail like I'm some freaking science experiment." She stops suddenly, seeming to catch herself. "Not that I'm not excited, I am. It's just...my body can really use a break right about now."

"Oh yeah, no." Stiles waves her off. "No need to explain. They're devils. Cute devils, but still."

"How are they? How are you?" she asks, genuine concern clouding her face.

"They're good. They're doing so much better than when they first got here, you know? Still have to check in every once and a while with their shrink, but things seem to be getting better. I mean, Chase came to me the other night when he had a nightmare. Even asked to sleep in my bed."

"That's good to hear." She seems to be recovering, so Stiles helps her up from the low chair, after struggling to get out of his own, of course. He helps her finish handing out the packets of worksheets and when she returns to her desk, he makes to leave before the kids come back from lunch.

"What about you?" Allison asks, her eyes suddenly focused in on his every movement. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

"Um..."

A small grin quirks at the corner of her mouth, threatening to break free. Allison may think she's good at being subtle, but she never has been, her every thought and emotion clear on her face like an open book. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been spending more time with Derek."

"Joining in on the gossip mill, are we?" Stiles teases. He's helping Ty put the blocks and various other toys he'd pulled out, away, even though they both know Ty is capable of doing it on his own. He needs the distraction right now so he doesn't have to look Allison in the face. She's not the only one bad at hiding her feelings. "We're just...friends. The kids adore him, can't stop talking about him and asking when he'll come by next. They're just...getting pretty attached to him."

"Just the kids?" Her voice comes out all soft like it gets when she's talking to a stubborn child and Stiles can't deal with that right now.

Allison is only trying to help, trying to understand, Stiles knows this. He just can't help but feel...he doesn't really know how he feels.

"You know what? I have to go. Gotta get started on that workload." He grabs Ty, ignoring the start of a fit and makes his way towards the door at the back of the room.

"Stiles-"

"Thanks again for watching them. Call me if there are any problems," he calls as he leaves, quickly making his way down the hall.

Of course that's the exact moment the first lunch is let out, causing Stiles to get caught in pretty much stop-still traffic with a toddler who's on the edge of a full-blown fit. Stiles isn't entirely sure he wouldn't join in if Ty broke down in tears right now. It's stupid. He's pathetic, he knows. He's just...overwhelmed. 

"Mr. Stiles?"

He just barely catches Chase's quiet voice over the crowd of over eager children fresh from the playground, but he turns and finds his dark mop of hair and gleaming brown eyes in a heartbeat.

"Hey, Chase," he greets, making his way over to Chase's classroom where all the kids are already making a ruckus inside.

Ty instantly cheers up the moment he notices his foster brother, squirming to get free. Stiles compromises, kneeling before Chase to allow the toddler to pull him into a hug, without letting Ty go.

"Are you heaw for the pawty?" Chase asks, obviously confused. He looks behind him where everyone is eagerly waiting in their seats as a little boy and one of the aids pass out a cupcake and a napkin to each of the kids.

"Ah, no buddy. I'm just here dropping your stuff off for your night at Scott and Allison's."

At that, Chase's face suddenly falls. Stiles thinks it's for the fact that he isn't stay, but after a moment Chase mumbles, "I don't wanna go to Awison's."

Oh, God. He really doesn't have time for this. He has to get Ty off to his dad's and finish off that research project he'd been putting off, what with his birthday and Nella's school performance, and he really shouldn't have put it off for so long, should've stayed up after the kids went down for the night, but-

"But you love Scott and Ally," Stiles tries. One of the aids has come over and looks moments away from trying to usher Chase into the classroom. "Remember how much fun you had the other day?"

Chase's frown deepens. He looks close to shutting down like he usually does when he's upset, Stiles literally having to drag the words out of him. But in a tiny voice he offers, "Why can't we go home with you?"

"I'm working tonight, buddy. Remember?" He glances at his watch. Yeah, he's got to go. "Besides, you'll have so much fun you won't even realize I'm not there."

He moves to get up and leave. The aid can deal with this. Maybe a cupcake will distract him long enough to-

Chase has his arms tightly crossed over his stomach, his hands squeezing the hem of his shirt in a manner Stiles hasn't seen since the first week the kids had arrived. 

Stiles drops back down to his knees, giving Chase his full attention.

"Hey...what's up?" The arms tighten. Nothing. "No, come on, tell me. You were all excited for this last night. What happened?"

It's probably useless. Chase doesn't share much when he gets like this, but Stiles is determined to wait him out.

"I don't want you to go," he eventually whispers.

Stiles sighs. He knows that tone. That's the I'm-afraid-you're-never-going-to-come-back tone. It's rarer now, thankfully. He thought they'd moved passed this. Obviously not. 

Stiles makes a mental note to bring it up at the kids' next therapy session and tells Chase in his most earnest tone, "It's only one night, kiddo. I'll pick you guys up after breakfast."

Chase pauses, seems to turn this over in his head, before finally lifting his eyes to meet Stiles'. "Pwomise?"

"Of course. Pinky swear."

They shake pinkies and Stiles lets Ty hug Chase once more before standing and nodding at the teacher's aid who moves in to usher Chase further into the classroom where they're all about to start singing happy birthday to the birthday boy. Chase freezes for a moment. Stiles looks at him expectantly and Chase suddenly bolts to Stiles' side, wrapping his arms around as much of Stiles' legs as he can in a quick, tight hug, before dashing back into the classroom and taking his seat.

And if Stiles sheds a tear or two on the car ride to his father's place, well, who's to know.

It's close to nine when Stiles finally emerges from his work, totally zoned out once he starts down that research rabbit hole. For a few seconds, all he can do is blink as he readjusts to the world around him. He'd finished off that project he'd been putting off, long before the midnight deadline, and was alternating between two other closely related projects for students he knew from the local community college, apparently taking the same Humanities class. 

He'd been trying to find different sources for each of them to branch off of in their own research for the paper, not wanting to chance either of them getting in trouble from having the same core paper. He'd actually been pretty involved, still, when he was jerked out of the zone for some reason that he can't actually remember.

That is, until the doorbell rings. Again.

Shit, right. The door.

Stiles jumps up from his chair, takes one step, and falls flat on his face. Fucking papers. Who the fuck used paper anymore? Stiles, obviously, but not any more. As he heads downstairs, he makes an oath to rid his house of papers so no other poor, unsuspecting soul will be injured from those heathens. There really should be a law of some sort, something to-

"Derek," Stiles squeaks in a very manly fashion. 

***

Derek can't help but grin at the obvious shock on Stiles' face. His brows are drawn down in the next moment as he takes in the bouquet of flowers in Derek's hand like he's trying to figure out if he'd somehow agreed to a date without his knowledge and is scouring his memories of the last few days. Derek only grins wider, waiting for Stiles to make the first move. Which, to be honest, he's hoping is to let Derek inside.

Instead, Stiles glares at the flowers for a moment longer before slamming the door in Derek's face.

Derek barely has a moment to process the extensive shock and disappointment he's hit with before the door opens once again.

"Nope, you're real," Stiles mumbles more to himself than Derek.

Derek just raises a brow at that.

"You, um. You can come in," Stiles says and a belated moment later, he opens the door wider to allow room for Derek to do just that. 

Okay, now Derek is a bit worried. Scott had mentioned how Stiles got into this 'zone' when he was deep into research, he just hadn't expected...this. Stiles doesn't seem fully...there yet, like most of his mind is still on his work while his body is going through the motions. Oh, god. Maybe this was a bad idea.

It wasn't even his idea, really. Scott had called him earlier, all but telling him straight up that he thought it'd be in both his and Stiles' best interest if Derek dropped by tonight. Honestly, Derek had almost hung up and gone back to his book but then...then he couldn't get the image of Stiles out of his mind. And it wasn't a pleasant one, like the ones that kept perforating his mind, really since Derek had met him.

No, this image had been of a more recent Stiles. A Stiles with dark bags under his eyes and tame smiles like he barely had the energy to move his muscles in the correct pattern. A Stiles who looked like he was seconds away from passing out or being blown over by the slightest of winds. 

And so what if he'd asked Nella about him at their last practice. Stiles had looked like he were about to topple over from exhaustion, even from across the field. And what Nella had told him really hadn't done anything to help ease his worry.

"He stays up with Chase when he can't sleep," she'd said in an offhand manner only kids could really accomplish with such sensitive topics.

"And how often is that?" Derek asked, attempting to keep his tone casual even though his stomach was already churning with worry and his mind was spouting out a thousand ways to fix this.

Nella had shrugged. "Every night, I think. He doesn't wake me anymore, so I don't know."

Derek had bit his lip from saying anything else, didn't want to prod in places he wasn't welcome, but he couldn't help but worry. It hadn't even been the last few times he'd run into Stiles. It'd been weeks now, and while Derek wouldn't claim to know the man as well as his friends, he didn't think this was normal. It shouldn't be normal.

Stiles always joked about wanting a night off or a moment to breathe, but Derek had never figured it was this bad. The man seemed to put everyone else before himself. And it was backfiring.

Stiles is the spitting image of the one Scott's conversation had brought to Derek's mind, if not worse. He looks pale, or rather paler than usual. More colorless than creamy white (not that Derek had engraved his mind with this fact the first time they'd met). And the dark circles are at full force, making Stiles look sickly and close to death, if he were being honest. And as much as Derek had come over for selfish reason (the overcoming need to just be near Stiles pulling at him every day, now), he's glad he did.

Just as he thinks this, Stiles' legs seem to give out from under him and he almost collapses right there at the door. Derek catches him, swiftly hooking one arm behind Stiles' back and the other behind his knees, swinging him up to rest against his chest.

Stiles attempts to protest, mumbling something about not being a princess, but Derek ignores him and carries him over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind him. He lays Stiles down on the couch, propping a pillow up against the armrest and resting Stiles against it. He hasn't completely passed out, so Derek hurries over to the kitchen, returning with a full glass of water and pressing it against Stiles' lips.

"Here, drink," Derek urges, helping Stiles to sit up further. He eventually opens his mouth just a sliver and Derek tilts the cup to allow him water. Some of it cascades down the side of Stiles' mouth and to the front of his shirt, but he ignores it in favor of making sure Stiles is swallowing, which thankfully he is.

"When was the last time you ate?" Derek asks as Stiles finishes the cup. He sets it on the coffee table and wipes the errant water from Stiles' face and neck.

"Not hungry," Stiles grumbles. He looks seconds away from falling asleep, so Derek helps him into a sitting position.

"Nope, come on. You're going to eat something."

Stiles lets out a god-honest whine which forces a smile to Derek's face. Obviously he's not too far gone if he can manage to act like a three-year-old. 

Derek leaves him to find something edible in the kitchen that will hopefully bring back some life to Stiles. The fridge is about as empty as the last time he was over and he can't help but frown at that. They may've just not had the time to go to the store. Or maybe grocery day was tomorrow. Either way, Derek makes a note to do something about it. What, he's not sure yet.

He finds a chocolate bar in the freezer and a banana in a bowl on the kitchen table and shoves both at Stiles before returning to the kitchen to refill his cup. When he returns, he finds Stiles struggling with the candy wrapper and opens it for him, barely staving off an eye roll.

While Stiles munches on the chocolate bar and sips at his water (at Derek's insistence), Derek retrieves the forgotten flowers from the doorway. They're only mildly rumpled, thankfully, and he takes them to the kitchen to prep and replace the old flowers with, setting them back on the kitchen table before finally joining Stiles.

"The banana, too," Derek says and he settles down onto the couch besides Stiles.

It earns him a huff and an eye roll, so obviously the food is doing its job if he has enough energy to give Derek his normal amount of sass.

With nothing left to fuss over, Derek is left at the mercy of his own mind. He hadn't really thought this all through. The plan, however spontaneous, had been to show up at Stiles' house, attempt to drag him away from his work for an hour or so, and have dinner since they haven't actually had their first date. But now, in the quietness of Stiles' house, he can see how stupid that all was. 

Most people, at least most people who want to have a meaningful relationship, do the whole dating thing before the sex thing. Derek had just thought they'd get to that eventually. He never actually stopped to think that maybe that wasn't what Stiles wanted. He was obviously fine with the whole physical pleasure bit, but maybe that was all he wanted. He didn't want the emotional attachment and commitment like Derek did. And Derek...

Well, Derek would just have to get used to that. He was too far gone on both Stiles and his kids to just drop them from his life and his mind. Hell, he was already miserable each day that he didn't have a plausible excuse to see the Stilinskis. His days consisted of random construction jobs, working his way through his family's library, avoiding the knowing gaze of his sisters, and cooking extravagant meals for one. Every moment he spent with the Stilinskis in their loud, active, crazy life was a blessing. It kept him from remembering how damn miserable his life was. 

He honestly began to think maybe, just maybe, he'd finally found a place to fit in. 

But it looks like he was wrong. Again.

Derek is seconds away from making a hasty retreat when suddenly there's a warm weigh against his side, a breath against his bare neck that sends shivers down his spine. He glances down to find Stiles snuggled up against him, his hands idly playing with Derek's shirt sleeve, his eyes firmly closed.

"Thank you," Stiles breathes out, quiet enough that Derek would've missed it if his mouth weren't right next to his ear.

They fall asleep like that, leaning into one another on Stiles' lump of a couch. When Derek finally manages to pull his eyes open, the blaring green light of the DVR reads 10:52. Derek carefully stretches, trying to move from Stiles' grasp without waking him. He might not be that comfortable down here on the couch that's seen far better days, but Derek doesn't want to risk waking him. 

He's settling Stiles back against the seat cushions when Stiles reaches out blindly in the dark and grabs Derek's wrist, freezing him in his tracks.

"Stay," he whispers.

Derek swallows around a lump. "Stiles-"

"Please." Hooded copper eyes stare back at him, pleading. "Stay."

"I'm not staying on the couch," Derek finally concedes.

Stiles smiles drowsily at him. Derek pulls him slowly to his feet then guides him up the stairs, his eyes barely managing to stay open. Once in his room, Stiles collapses face first into his bed and moans into the sheets.

Derek chuckles softly before following him in. Somehow this feels more intimate than the last time he'd stepped inside this room. He shakes the thought from his head and sets his attention on preparing both Stiles and himself for bed. He quickly rids himself of his clothing, aside from his boxer briefs, relieving himself in the bathroom across the hall, before returning to deal with Stiles, which turns out to be a much harder task than imagined.

Stiles seems to make it his mission to be the least helpful undresser ever. He refuses to move a muscle, collapsing back against the bed as soon as Derek's hands stop supporting him which causes his shirt to catch, twice. His pants are worse, impossibly tight when he's awake to deal with them, yet somehow even more complicated to get off when the wearer is immovable. 

Eventually, Derek manages to get Stiles down to his boxers and he takes a moment to look through Stiles' drawers for sleep wear, knowing it'd take another ten minutes to get Stiles in to clothes, but he either owns none or they are all dirty. 

"You were just too lazy to undress yourself, weren't you?" Derek accuses, finding Stiles already under the sheets, blanket tucked up to his chin. His only reply is another sleepy grin and Derek shakes his head fondly before climbing into bed besides him.

Derek is hit with a brief moment of panic as he settles in next to Stiles, the man automatically throwing an arm over Derek's chest and snuggling into his side. He can't help but to think of the last time he'd been in a bed with another person without the intention of getting laid. He swears he smells her perfume, the stench catching in his throat and forcing his breaths to come unevenly.

He hasn't had a panic attack in months, but he knows one when he sees it. 

"G'night," Stiles mumbles into his chest, his stumbled cheek absentmindedly rubbing against his chest.

The effect is instant, knocking Derek out of his panic and pulling him into the present. If he focuses, he can smell the earthy, almost cinnamon scent that is Stiles, can feel the warmth he gives off and the muscled shape of his body. He's not back there. He'll never go back there. 

He's here, with the man who sets his heart racing for far different reasons. He's home.

***

Stiles wakes up in increments, feeling more rested and at ease than he has in...months. It takes him a moment to remember where he is and how he got there, and then he shifts to his back, finding Derek's sleeping face inches from his own. He can't help the smile that covers his face at the sight before him.

Derek is absolutely adorable when sleeping, and Stiles is prepared to tell him exactly that, he just doesn't want to wake him yet. His face is slack, peaceful, his dark eyelashes ghosting against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. He's adorable. 

When Derek finally manages to blink the sleep from his eyes, Stiles is still unabashfully staring at him. He smiles when Derek's brows draw together in confusion when he finally realizes he's not alone in bed.

"Creeper," Derek mumbles, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms above his head with a grunt. 

"Maybe. But it's not my fault you're so adorable when you're sleeping."

"M'not adorable," Derek mumbles, his arm thrown over his face in an attempt the keep the light out and sleep just a little bit more. But Stiles has other plans.

He climbs on top of Derek, his knees on either side of his hips, happy to find Derek is sporting a bit of morning wood as well. He grinds down slowly, drawing a groan out of Derek.

"Stiles," Derek says breathlessly, the hand that was covering his face coming down and reaching out to Stiles, stilling him. 

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Stiles says, already climbing off, but Derek's hand on his hip stills him. 

"Don't be sorry."

"Then, what?" Stiles waits, half on top of Derek, half off, his eyes scanning Derek's face for any sign that he doesn't want this. He still looks half dead to the world, but his pupils are blown wide and he's blatantly staring at Stiles' mouth, so whatever it is can't be all bad. 

"You don't have to," Derek finally offers, his voice uncharacteristically small. He runs his hands over Stiles' bare thigh, his eyes refusing to meet Stiles'.

"But I want to." Stiles is still entirely too confused. "Derek, I want to give you this. For all you've done. For me. The kids. You're incredible and I want to show you that."

Derek's brow furrows but he doesn't argue, so Stiles chances a kiss, leaning over Derek and pressing their chests together before capturing Derek's lips with his in a slow kiss. When he finally pulls away, Derek's eyes are on his and he's giving him an odd look, like Stiles is a puzzle he can't quite figure out. But Stiles has something more important to focus on.

He kisses down Derek's jaw, dropping nips and licks along his neck and chest, nuzzling the coarse hair that grows the thickest there and following it down to where the blanket is still covering him. "Can I?" Stiles asks, playing with the edge of the blanket and staring up at Derek expectantly.

Derek's Adam's apple bobs and he gives the slightest of nods, but it's enough for Stiles. He eagerly rips the blanket away then tugs Derek's tight briefs down, his already hard cock popping free and slapping against his stomach with the he force of it. 

When Stiles doesn't do anything further for a few moments, Derek lifts his head and finds Stiles staring down at his dick with a fierce concentration. Stiles catches his eye, a blush quickly spreading across his cheeks. "You're just so beautiful," Stiles admits quietly.

Then he takes Derek into his hand and Derek looses all ability to think. His grip is light, slowly moving down the shaft and back up before brushing his thumb over the head, forcing a gasp out of Derek every time he does. Then suddenly Stiles is leaning forward and licking the precome at the tip and Derek's stomach clenches under his hand. He plays with the foreskin a bit, trying out different things before taking it between his teeth and pulling lightly.

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek gasps. Stiles does it again, enticing a similar reaction. 

He likes how responsive Derek is to everything, letting out a harsh rush of air as Stiles nibbles his thigh, inhaling sharply when he takes one of his balls into his mouth. It's thrilling. It makes Stiles feel like he's finally capable of giving Derek what he deserve, finally showing how much he cares for him.

Derek is always taking care of Stiles and his kids, putting them before his own needs and going far out of his way to give them exactly what they want, what they need. Stiles just figures he deserves the same in return. Plus, being in control of this tall, ridiculously muscular man shoots a little thrill through Stiles core. It's selfish, really, what he's doing. He's taking as much from Derek as he's giving to him.

After dragging out his exploration of the Stiles' favorite appendage of Derek's, he sets to work on getting him off. He wraps his lips around Derek's dick, sucking firmly before bobbing his head down, taking just a bit more each time. Stiles has never really figured out the whole gag reflex thing, so he jerks what he can't reach with his mouth, with his fingers. And when he pulls off to catch his breath, the saliva smooths things, allowing him to move more confidently.

Derek's head is thrown back against the pillows, his legs spread wide to allow Stiles room to work, and his hand is clenching and unclenching the bedding beside his hips. He already looks on the verge of coming, and Stiles blooms in pride at that. 

Stiles rakes his nails down Derek's chest, loving how his abs clench at the pleasure, then he takes Derek back into his mouth, redoubling his efforts. On a whim, Stiles trails his fingers back, ghosting over soft skin and coarse hair, and when Derek does't protest at the feel of Stiles' finger resting against Derek's taint, he moves further back pushes against his hole. Derek jumps, causing his dick to hit the back of Stiles' throat and he pulls off with a cough.

"Shit, Stiles." Derek moves to his elbows, reaching a hand out to steady Stiles.

Stiles brushes him off. "Sorry I...I should've asked," Stiles says, his embarrassment eating him alive and choking up his throat.

"Stiles-"

"No, it's...I mean, we never talked. About preferences and such. And we never got around to the whole...penetration thing last time. Not that I minded! Because that was awesome. I just-"

"Stiles," Derek says more firmly, his hand reaching out to circle Stiles' wrist, pulling him back to the present and away from his errant thoughts. "You can do whatever you want to me. I trust you. You just, surprised me, I guess."

Derek's hand runs up Stiles' arm, up his neck, and he cups the side of his face, his eyes staring intently into Stiles'. Stiles allows himself to be pulled down into a kiss. It begins soft, unsure, more a slight brush of lips than anything but quickly turns heated. Derek hums into his mouth as Stiles takes his dick in his hand once more, happy to see it'd only flagged minutely. 

He quickly moves down Derek's body, beyond eager to get back to where he left off. He sucks Derek into his mouth like he's desperate, which, not untrue. He loves the feel of him, the way his skin moves more than other guys he'd been with, the throbbing heat of him. He could go down on Derek for the rest of his life with no complaints, really.

Stiles wants to return to everything he was doing but...

"Stiles," Derek breathes, drawing his attention upwards. Derek's eyes are wide and bright and entirely filled with need. He doesn't say anything else, and instead opens his legs, drawing one knee up and giving Stiles clear permission, which he takes full advantage over.

He sucks briefly on his finger, drawing out a moan from Derek he seems as surprised by as Stiles is, before brushing against Derek's hole once again. Derek's hips jerk, pressing back against Stiles and he slowly pushes in, in awe at how tight and hot he feels and imagining how Derek would feel around his cock. 

He only pushes in to the second knuckle, but it seems to be enough if the grunt Derek lets out is anything to go by. He's breathing heavily now, eyes never leaving Stiles' even as hooded as they are. And when Stiles licks a slow strip up Derek's cock, he finally releases the poor, strangle sheets in favor of gripping Stiles' hair, forcing Stiles to groan against the head of Derek's cock. Derek pulls harder.

Stiles takes Derek fully into his mouth and sucks hard, his other hand working the base of his cock. Derek cants his hips into the heat of it, but Stiles is more prepared this time and moves with him. He keeps up his insistent ministrations until Derek is tugging at his hair and moaning, "Stiles, I'm going to come." And even then he keeps going, sucking harder and brushing against that spot that has Derek's stomach clenching each time he hits it, until Derek is spurting in his mouth.

Stiles swallows it all down, tonguing at Derek's tip to make sure he got all of it, until Derek is gasping at how sensitive it is. Only then does he pull off with a pop, licking his lips in a way that looks obscene. 

"Come here," Derek says, opening his arms. Stiles scoots up the bed and settles against Derek's chest. Derek kisses the top of his head before he starts running just his fingertips along Stiles' arm, sending pleasant shivers through his entire body. He hums in contentment.

"Do you want me to..." Derek asks, Stiles already shaking his head before he can finish his thought. No. He just wants to lay there. To enjoy this.

"I do have to pick up the kids at some point," Stiles mumbles sleepily into the skin of Derek's chest. He doesn't move though, so Derek figures they have time.

"Just rest, Stiles. Allison can handle them for another half hour or so."

Stiles mumbles something incoherent and snuggles closer to Derek's side, and Derek allows himself to relax with the feeling of Stiles' warm body next to him in the quietness of the morning. He tries to keep his thoughts from wondering, but he can't help but imagine having this, every morning. Not so much the whole death-by-orgasm part, but the cuddling, the holding someone who means the world to you for just a few more quiet moments before the weight of the world settles in, part. And Stiles. He wants Stiles.


End file.
